Friday, October 28, 2016


For a while, a character from an unwritten book
With a degree in sign language interpretation
Would translate from the lower left  corner
Of my more important dreams. She grew bored
And began doing quick summaries of the action
 "He is having another long conversation
About bears. Now he is being chased by the sink
From his apartment on
Cottage Grove Avenue.
He's talking again but it's just blather.
Wouldn't you rather watch me dance?"
I admit she dances very well
But she was distracting, making me ignore
My dreams and they resented it.
She comes by still from time to time
If it's rainy and she needs a place to sleep.
When did my dreams become a refuge
For imaginary folk without homes?

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