Day 07

Really annoyingly, part of Day 7, the end of this poem, has gone missing too. Anyway, here it is so far.

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Casenotes

Why can't I wake up? It seems
That you have trapped me,

Burgess-style, in front of dreams,
my eyelids spread by head clamps tightly

screwed; some metal cockroach queen
whose throne, my temple, wants to see

your motions, diet, cufflinks, spleen;
hankers after some heat-seeking CCTV

that only seeks your heat. I pen
you awful verse. I draw the sea

and you the only merman preening
in its arms. I plot a jamboree

at which you, screened
at first by fans, strip freely.