We Real Tired
(The Gwendolyn Brooks’ Nocturnal Lament)

We can’t sleep. We
count sheep. Have
cold feet. Turn
up heat.

We feel ill. We
take pill. We
have chill. We
lie still.

We close eyes.
Try and try.
Look outside.
It’s sunrise.

No Jazz June.
No play pool.
No desire.
We real tired.