Insomnia
When I can’t sleep, I forge rough rhymes,
matching blindness, say, with timeless,
or almost matching popular
with poplar. Yes, it’s idleness,
and I concede I stretch the rules
as when I pair up misery
and pity– all a trick to find
a way to lie there worry-free.
No, don’t call it trick but mission
even passion, this urge to prise
away each fear, however small,
that blights me. But hard as I try,
my words do as they please. They scorn
resistance: I’ve just sought to link
bliss to something beside distress
but despite me the effort brings
not half-rhymed release but bereft.
*
Sydney Lea is a Pulitzer finalist in poetry, founder of New England Review, Vermont Poet Laureate (2011-15), and recipient of his state’s highest artistic distinction, the Governor’s Award for Excellence in the Arts. He has published two novels (most recently Now Look, 2024), eight volumes of personal essays (most recently, Such Dancing as We Can, 2024), a hybrid mock epic with former Vermont Cartoonist Laureate James Kochalka called Wormboy (2020), and sixteen poetry collections (most recently What Shines, 2023). His new and selected poems is due in early 2027.
From The Archives: Published on This Day
- That’s on you by Sophie Frankpitt (2024)
- Two Poems by Philip Jason (2023)
- Blocked by Eric Heller (2023)
- Two Poems by Joseph Chelius (2021)

