Spain

The clock struck midnight
(who cried out in pain
and promptly struck back)
as I stood by the window
of my hostel room.
Outside, the debauchery was
just getting ready to start
as students and travelers
of all shapes and sizes
began this journey
through the maze of tapas bars.

Reasonable folk lay in bed,
but in a country that spawned
Don Quixote, the Fountain of Youth,
and a trip across the Atlantic,
there are plenty willing to
chase the windmill of easy money
to the bottom of a shot glass
owned by a tourist who
lacks the ability to stop.

I\'d sleep, but a roommate
snores like a beast.
I prescribe Allegra, Claritin,
Afrin, and Flonase, along with
surgery, as people who snore that
loud are at risk of dying from
a stroke, or strangulation.
My advice falls on deaf ears,
lost to his sonorous slumber.

The clock continues his battle,
now striking 5 A.M.
Everyone spins their
drunken dreams,
but I lay awake:
an insomniac in
the land of siestas.