as always the dream morphs into a french patisserie. visions
of michelle in tightly dyed curls on bleecker
searching for gelato lead quickly to dusty glass
case-tops filled with genetically modified
meat. is inescapable future of humanity!
i would give up this nasty habit of
putting you where my sleep should be,
see, it started in september when i tore
up your memory foam and sent you
outside, to repose in the dog-house.
when i came back from new york
and its lukewarm, coatless christmas
the doves had all flown the crate
(and all our inside jokes had gone away.)
should have had it galvanized,