Bad Dream

Bad dream

Water pouring from the attic

I go upstairs to find

The intruder is in.

Naked but nobody notices

The sick man breathing

So slowly with rattled breath

He cannot take his daily pills.

Rummage through drawers

For clothes that aren’t mine

Pink jeans that look better

On me than on her, yes, I did.

In the old house, in a

New house with more stairs

Than I can remember,

Than can be necessary.

The chase is on,

Car flanked with men on

Motorcycles, but I can’t see it,

I’m out-of-breath distracted.

Kisses and controlled images

Holographic on all four sides

Box us in, but he’s

In on it – who’s side are you on!

How did we get here down this

Long dirt drive to the woods

Where the driver pulls me in

An old adobe home?

He draws a new door on

A solid wall, there was no

Way through, but now there is,

So simple as hands together,

Open in the shape of the door

And it appears. Into the room

Full of artifacts from a

Future self non-existent,

This is a trap and I know.

He’s offered me the metal

Sculpture and Art and Stories

I have not created on my own.

Outside in the park on the long

Trail, the men are being taken

One by one, tricked by a

Siren’s song, they struggle,

And at last she plucks a purple

Flower from the water and

Presses it to the man’s lips,

The final kiss. Death grips.

Three boys on bicycles

Speed past, looking for police.

A happy couple share a glance,

He says, “It’s not blood

On my shirt, it’s only ketchup.”

She nods her head, agreeing.

She’s complicit or complacent?

What am I not seeing…

Running down the stairs,

All those stairs, oh my God,

To save my family, warn them,

The words caught, I sputter,

Wake up, out loud, “Call 911!”

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