Found lines from Tomas Tranströmer, "The House of Headache" It is an all-ages rave here in the house of headache. The lights are like young children running, their bodies Morse code in the house of headache. Sleep is the only solution in the house of headache, but dreams are pigeons that peck at the cerebral cortex for crumbs, hidden in the pewter, ancient folds. In the house of headache, my left eye twitches, my left nostril tingles, my left temple throbs, and no politics or religion survives; I pray only to a god that flushes. In the house of headache “traffic is unbearably slow. The breaking news is out. And somewhere a telephone is ringing.” In the house of headache, there is no choice. Soccer practice is over. Even in the house of headache, someone has to pick up the kids.