A year for the undreamed

A year ago
I couldn’t tell you
the difference between the dream
and the dawn
the dreamed nor the dusk
I drifted to the toad licking the stone
handing my name as a goat
with a loaded knife to process it
I wore whiskey lace over my eyes
playing word chess
in an informal disciplinary that should never
have been visited, the lace got thick
my name had its throat cut
and dripped innocence and work ethic
I left with disgust dissolving on my tongue
a lozenge of bitter time
my sky looks better now
as better monkeys play here
with regret placed in the attic
to rest with memories
I would like to lose


5 thoughts on “A year for the undreamed”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s