dreams are amazing. their fruition
in clouds.
moving faster and quicker sitting
in stillness.
silver shadows, same mistakes, rage
of the cobra’s eyes.
moon bit, liquid tomorrows, penalty
in a scream;
shaking from temblors, walking at
my hindsight,
leaving one last impression.
either/or,
moreover, pain,
a man, his bottle, laid dead, near
a sewer—
his legacy outwitted, blasé, left
to critical critiques.
by its balance, unknitted,
resewn,
dreaming one into some creation.
a valley of marbles,
courage of tigers,
heartbeat of a jaguar.
a gunning intellect, a silent
thumb, an imprint on his sleeve.
an issue,
a pitchfork to his dungeon,
running so swiftly,
around a mountain,
back to a starting exit.
