Monsters words

I mean to sleep
but it seems like my
ticking cuckoo clock soul
is afraid to miss something
"what?"
"what will you miss?"
she never answers me
so i let her write
her newspaper thoughts
I am on standby
I let my fingers rub
the pretty E's and O's
black black pinkies
then by six-o-clock
they tap at the jealousies
to be let let out
and as i open it
they scamper out
where I assume they
will loaf through
the morning sky
like little monsters