Hamlet in a Madhouse

Insomnia,
You’re like the gods
Trying on costumes in a dark room.

Young Ophelia brought me tea,
A book,
And a blanket to hide under.

For three whole days
I watched her trace her shadow
With a finger,
Mumbling nursery rhymes.

At night, I saw Ophelia’s mad ghost
Sitting cross-legged on the floor,
Whereupon, at the site of me,
She stuck out her tongue.