...the junk drawer of my mind... look if you want. you might find dreams scraps (maybe featuring you?), poem scraps, ideas unformed or abandoned, dried out sharpie pens, 37 cent stamps, lies and red-herrings, lip-gloss and assorted dangling and/or misplaced modifiers.
Sunday, November 8, 2015
8 Submerged
Submerged
This dream interests me.
I am skiing, a bit carefully
turning a lot to not wipe out
but the snow quality changes
to slush, slows
so I can set a more direct line
and I do
head straight
down, with confident, cut curves
I know my people
are watching, noticing my new confidence
but the quality of the slush changes
is melting and I am skiing
into water and, as would happen,
as it turns to water I sink
fast
and my boots an my clothes and my skis
pull me down fast and I know
I must
get rid of all that is dragging me down
quickly and I do
I take off my boots and the skis sink
with them and I know
that is not all I must hold on
and I hold on to a thresher
that is there
unmoving
both these things need to happen
and do and two
corpses, bloated
float by me and I drift
near them carried downstream
and grab onto a corner of the lodge
where I can rest
and know I have done things okay
but I can't call
because my phone was wet
all was submerged
I can only hope that those
above me on the hill, or the hill-river
or the river
figured out what I did
and saved themselves
just in time.
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