Process Fractionalization

Mosquito hour. The hunger
That doesn't share its torment
With consumer and consumed
Can't be called hunger at all.
Bless this pest. She's all that keeps
Drowsy me alert tonight
When I most need my wits kept.

Sleep waits to take us apart.
No, not that sleep. That's hunger,
Death is. Ordinary sleep
Is the process that divides
Awareness into pieces
And removes them, as does drink,
Bits at a time from the mind.

I said something to someone
Last night. I forget until
A mosquito reminds me.
I might say something tonight
Except for a well-timed slap.
Oh, no bees have ever buzzed
As loud as starved mosquitoes.

Bless them, but they won't succeed.
The ones I don't kill myself
Will drink their fill, die somewhere
Else as I collapse to sleep
By stages, losing ego,
Senses, hunger last of all,
And God slaps away at dreams.