Big blank screen
“Bighead” ping!
Suddenly my exile shrinks,
Anita it's one hour to Midnight.
At cross roads, but traffic is green.
Even more sleep deprived,
My dancing mind derails.
Anita, what do you seek from me?
Even dubbing birds, woo better.
“Just wanted to check on you” ping!
The corner flag; red,
my thinking; offside.
I take a bite, then two,
Conversations like this, cause toothaches,
60 minutes feels sudden.
Ping!
“Goodnight Big Head”
Murder case of my curiosity never to be solved.
I never deny, I like the esoteric spotlight.
Fat midnight, alone, sleep in the bin,
If ceilings be stars then, beg them to not retire from my wondering gaze,
For I am just an overthinking man,
I know not what she wants from me.
painfully accurate