- for Timm Freitas -
The dude was capable of perfect sleep,
although he did not know he had a snore
that sounded down ten thousand fathoms deep
and varied from a siren to a beep.
It irked his brother Tim right to the core
that Andy could enjoy such perfect sleep
across the room inside his bundled heap
that rattled windowpanes and shook the door
and sounded furlongs thick and fathoms deep.
Across the floor our restless Tim did creep
and thought how best to interrupt the roar
so that he too might get some perfect sleep.
His road to victory, alas, was steep.
For Andy’s dreams were filled with magic lore
that dropped his NREM-3* just far too deep,
brought on by making love to Meryl Streep.
Returning to his bed, Tim’s ears were sore.
Yes, Andy sure was capable of sleep.
And sure, Tim slept. But no, it wasn’t deep.
[*Read: “en-rem-three” (the deepest stage of human sleep, that precedes and may follow the REM stage, in which we dream).]