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Sleep Apnoea, By: Phillip Jordan

February 17, 2026 by Phillip Jordan

Sleep Apnoea, By: Phillip Jordan

Perched cranium feathered buckled up for a conscious is out of control falling for ages breathing stopped like a clock tick no tock. Russian roulette takes place with a baguette loaded with mothballs it wasn’t what I ordered

There is no signal in this dark cavity I’m being held down by gravity in a laboratory where is the lavatory; waste matter, cup coasters, hard cash, cracked eggs fried, teeth wobbled, wild bears I could cuddle.

A subconsciousness of past events concocting frenzied futures I gave up giving up making way through devoid inane chatter following an increasingly steadied state I am suspended in a complicated structure of hippocampus

As dusks demise is imminent PM blues blend to an Ante Meridiem orangey pink I’m empty belly that’s my cue peeping dewy eyed out through the curtains I have to change the batteries in the time machine

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