she was having one of those dreams one wants to force
yourself awake to be rid of. when you wake up and your
arm won’t move and you shake it almost off trying to remember
what day it is and what you’re supposed to be doing.
i think i’m in chicago still trying to get back to california
or that i’m failing out of school because i skipped
too many classes and didn’t turn in the papers,
hoping i could cover it up later and not lose
my security clearance.
it’s an occupation that quickly saps all desire.
like the week i flew all night to shake one man’s
hand, got back on the plane and flew twice that time to see
my own bed again. they dimmed the cabin lights but peace
missed the flight. or was shredded by the engines
who knows. stale air is no reward for hard work.
my brother used to tell me stories about swimming under
the summer moon with fireflies overhead while his
sticky skin slid thoughtlessly into a dark water. he said
fish nibbled his toes. i think he was just chicken shit.
scared as one could be under our naked sky
homeless for its gods once again.
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