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Dream 0511


risen from the barely living

his gray ponytail flies wildly in dread

i wake with my brambles intact

we did not anticipate our fates

gingham avenue and the bobbed-tail tabby

backfires & gunshots up and down the street

trash and leaves flooding the air

like the red hawks diving overhead.

he and i make the best of this insanity

depressed that we owe too much to repay.

so little enjoyment. no escape

as we struggle to make our marks

running the avenues the freeways the skies

the air full of the pollen, dust, and June bugs



[Originally published in NHS 2011, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs11/.]