Friday, June 10, 2005

The Fortune Cookie

An old dream you thought was lost will reoccur.

And it will slay you
pulled back into old nightmares
you’d killed by never sleeping
pinching the chair to see the moon
every second
without blinking –

Too tight to follow cases that lift above security lights
empty pockets
unlace your shoes
and walk with bowed head
through our century’s gothic arches

We lift off
fingers gripping
shared armrests
that assert and question
our personal space

We race to visit cultures more exotic
than our own

When in foreign markets
that dream you once thought lost
glistens to you
from between naranjas

It picks you up in seedy bars
limbos under your expectations
gathers limbs reaching to capture a moment
before the worst had already happened to you –

This dream, growing slowly
in the black light
of back-yard, drug-store hothouse
seems as simple to you now
as it did then
with room to spare
for everything that doesn’t come easy.

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