Sleep is the warmest thing
That hovers over the crumbling roof of my room
The loneliest corner has books on mathematics and science
Most of them suggest there is no God.
I wonder if scientists and mathematicians live in houses
Where sleep isn’t the warmest thing.
I’ve got books on religion too;
They are neatly arranged inside my refrigerator.
They all speak of an afterlife.
The word “Afterlife” was invented in Antarctica
By some priest who sold ice-creams.
It leaves me feeling too cold!
Tonight I yearn to swallow the warmth of sleep
That crumbles the roof of my room.
I have no idea what's going on here, but I think that makes it a little more fun to read. It made me wonder, why are there books in the refrigerator. It was entertaining. I wasn't sure at first if I liked the way the lines broke, it seemed more like paragraph material for me at first but by the end it seemed to fit.