Impossiblities

Parking lots. Lockers. A million high schools blurred into one.
A twisted hallway, a tiny dark classroom.

Chalkboards containing unfamiliar names, dates, words…
I’m failing to understand the dream,
begin noticing people from reality.

A missing tooth in a red plastic treasure chest.
I must put these ideas and more to rest.

Amusement parks complete with Ferris wheels, and
dizzy rides spring up allowing me a place to hide.

We drive on highways or down gravel roads,
across giant bridges but every time we swerve.

I fly through windshields. I wake, raking air
into breaking lungs.

Impossible details,
imprints of my sleeping life
interpreted in waking life…

It goes on like that until I click
the light pulling on a grimy white string
ending up in various versions of my bedroom
with all the lost antique furniture.

I get so lost. Confused. Then my mind turns to you.
Blank. Smiling in a sleepy state, demons set to rest
until I wake.

Bleed Through

Does it bleed right through from me to you? Are my thoughts placed flat or running like a racing rat? Do you notice the absence of incense or the abscess of stress that grows in a knot in your gut? Does it bleed through a white shirt? Gory tie dye design, screaming circles of deepest red. Finally spiraling out, flickering off, going to bed.

Attend, escape…

“Tree reform”
is paper union
and pulpy labor.

Black, white and red
traffic mass.

Later, reduction.

Farmer’s note: don’t sacrifice virgins.

Recycle bloody fibers.

American Spam Dream

Active magazines display association

merely seeking truth via internet.

Oblivious little futures tic by,

driving revolution tonight!

Performance? Yes!

No matter how much

violence. Warm, late thank

yous in a busy, private house.