ready to snap 2

oh no you don't
at 3 in the fucking morning
blare Born In The USA
at tinnitus rates
through concrete and paint
and into my tranquil
in dire need of NyQuil
tossing and burning
insomnia bed

just
oh just
when I thought
the enticing sandman
would blow my lids
to peace
you flip a disc
and Enter Sandman
blows my liability
to pieces

I could pick up a bat
and in full PJ battle uniform
march over to demand
a reduction
of volume
or your half deaf
intoxicated head

but for my Gandhi ass
another course
will have to do

to Teen Spirit tones
I slug myself to sleep
with pre noon plans
of sweet revenge

to get those paintings
hammered into place
just a thin wall away
from your horribly
haunting, hopefully hurting
hangover