there’s
a vestibule, a long hallway many paths many doors. I tread whispers I see
cobwebs or huge spiders—a door reads, “You’re Invited,” another screams, “I
know you!” bugs paint walls lizards smoke cleansers while orange is a new
symbol. by rage of its ceiling by suspended chandeliers by walking desks. I see
a face. so long at hurting. so strong it’s intrusive. I walk or jog I need to
locate an exit. it extends itself it grows longer some thought paints rugs—a man
appears he disappears it looks like father; a woman yells something vague she
denies we’re there. another woman laughs but its emotion she’s running from her
ghosts. marbles immerge those bleeding marbles such tales of purgatory.
televisions in a background, needles as doorknobs, a mongoose is with
questions: “Why have you come? Where are we at? Have you gone to sleep?” I feel
uneasy, as if a dirt nap, I answer his questions: “I came for clearance, I’m
here because of a psych, I have never gone to the long sleep.” I couldn’t as to
where am I at, or stillness in his guts, while running but unmoving. I see rainbows
I sense music, it’s a range in distance. there’re protesters, sticks swerving,
or cops menacing. the Capitol is under siege. we ignore protocol. they’ll be
arrested later. (the president likes-dislikes them!) a house appears I see a
haunted chair mother has father’s belt. I see a bible, opened at Revelation,
I smell fumes. I hear bronze as it chuckles, we’re rushing for gold. some alein
in me some lover in sin while melodies trespass my ears. a woman appears she
carries a blue book, it reads DSM-5. “I’ve found you. Such a young One! Why are
you resistant?” I shake from chills I’m in awe the woman is fading—I see a crib,
I hear myself crying, a man picks me up, he says words I can’t make out.
