I patrol your slumber
in search of suitable dreams
to co-opt—
remove really—
to apply to my
own future
in conjunction
with other dreams
highjacked
by the handful
from the shut-eye club.
Mixed metaphors.
An unawareness of names.
Kinship.
An expanding thought bubble
with rainbow skin.
Vibrant dimensions.
So much humiliation to sort through.
Foolishness.
Layers and layers and layers.
Fifty-two card pickup.
I mispronounce Jazz.
Exhaled on a single trumpet note.
A solitary dot
denotes a feather
denotes flight
denotes ascension
denotes heavenly air—
the breath of love
propels all motion
with a puff.
copyright © Kenneth P. Gurney
