and druggists rig the ambivalence of sleep

This is the first part of 'stuff in my garage/office' series of, well, stuff in my garage/office. This is a poem that hangs on the wall. The poem was written in Austin at a typewriter rodeo, where poets with typewriters hang out on the street and write poems on the spot, after you feed them a few lines or an idea. I had literally just woken up the night before to go to the bathroom, and two of these lines were buzzing in my head (from wherever random ideas come from). Maybe there had been a mosquito in the room, but I had the lines 'the sadness of mosquitoes, and druggists rig the ambivalence of sleep'. Anyway, I fed the lines to this poet (I think her name reads Kari Ane??) and this is what resulted in about one minute. I thought she did a pretty good job:

'and druggist(s) rig the ambivalence of sleep'

causing vague dreams, fake rest

unconsciousness

incomplete

but complete enough

that upon waking

the itching begins

and the sadness of mosquitoes

has entered your body

from laying still

for way too long