I Wake

4 AM,
afraid.
Of nothing.
Of everything.
I pick up a book, read
a sentence 3 pages in length --
imagine putting together
such a string of
language, a thing of
dashes, colons, parentheses;
unendingly baroque, churriqueresque --
such loggorrheaish felicity
sustained at so fervent a pitch,
so long --
I put the book down.
Almost five o'clock, and
time enough to fear the
dawn.