Florida intruded upon Paul’s dreams.

It sent four astronauts skyrocketing
inside a Saturn V.

Spider thread tethered the rocket
to the northeast corner of Paul’s bed room ceiling.

Florida annexed Paul’s major league baseball aspirations.

The aspirations were way past their freshness date.
A bit fermented, like a peach five days on the ground.

Paul’s shower-head sprayed him with whiskey.
The Saturn V reached orbit.

Florida directed the incidental music in Paul’s background.

A heptagon nebula blinked each time it was tapped.
It wanted leaches to drain excess gas out of its polygon.

The nebula wished to form stars, but not ignite them.
It planned to create the perfect constellation in darkness.

Florida picked dead flies out of the craters of the moon.

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copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney