This is a poem I recently had workshopped. It’s a little heavy on alliteration, but I think its there for good reason. I’d like to get a little more feedback.
The Anatomy of a Powernap
A subtle circadian rhythm creates dissonance
with a bored barrage of beats from a time clock.
Caffiene and nicotine will put off short dreams, but
pretty soon, pummeled by palpitations, private worry is precipitated
Before your eyes, spare time becomes the nickels and dimes
bodies break, bruise, and bend over backwards for.
A sleep that skims the surface,
and a brief break for a smoke, you brag
are the only prerequisites for paying your plentiful bills.