In a dream Lori was a pack of cigarettes.
Each new man she dated
withdrew a smoke and lit it on fire
and after one long drag left it to smolder
on the edge of an ashtray.
In another dream Lori was a TV remote
where the previous channel button
returned the view to a news station
that only covered mass shootings
with explicit footage and detailed descriptions.
In Wednesday’s dream Lori
was a volcano that erupted laughter
and nitrous oxide into the atmosphere
until the plume surrounded the earth
following the jet-stream’s curved line.
On nine-eleven Lori dreamt
she was a staircase in the north tower.
She was glad people walked all over her—
sad when gravity overcame damaged structure
and brought her world tumbling down.
On New Year’s Eve Lori dreamt
all the opportunities she missed in the previous year
especially how the camera adored her
in a culture where plus-sized models
were celebrated on page and screen.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney