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
by the handful
from the shut-eye club.

Mixed metaphors.
An unawareness of names.
An expanding thought bubble
with rainbow skin.
Vibrant dimensions.
So much humiliation to sort through.
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

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