Friday, December 15, 2017

NIGHT WORK



In your dream a car rolls up;
You enter and are driven
Into another dream.
Where you're not the star -- are,
In fact, simply staffage, employed
To put things in scale
And liven the background.
About
five a.m. you're paid
In what looks like cabbage leaves.
The same car takes you back
But your dream has its lights off
And every door is locked.

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