not cloud 9 in time
for the cloud themed
party
wear the sun and moon kimono
for the first time
no clouds there but
suggestions
perhaps
star hoops
close but no
more hair
easier
perhaps
I look thicker?
I thought it was a beautiful day
but it was fake summer
tired in my bones for
no good reason other
than waking up again
and again and again
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
I had a very moving dream. It lacked the embarrassment that most dreams have at least an ounce of. The embarrassment in understanding the dreamed scenario as an appendage, or a fragment from our impervious depths. Subtle embarrassment plus vague familiarity. This dream, instead, was richer than liver in its newness, in its maturity. In its departure with my senses, there was a freshness that I had yet to feel. The content was indeed "familiar", but, like a beautiful film made by someone else, from an other year, or, an other country, the viewing was a luscious package. Divined? Created elsewhere, and delivered.
walking on the farm that
my dead friend used to go to
in the summer
with his family
I'm wearing a small sundress
and the sun is heavy on me
at full volume
its brilliant green
circles around
my walk
the chickens look fake
I question them
a little charcoal smudge for eyebrows
on a plaster form
I'm walking with my dead friend's brother
I want to say
tension is high
side by side I want to
be there for him
we walk in the sun
earlier
Jake was sitting on the stairs
playing out a memory live
showing us everything
there was to remember
about him
like his crooked mouth and
troubling silence
