poem from a failed dream

they say you'll die if you die in your dreams
how can we know this?


rolled up pill bug small
eyes open to white blindness.
asleep. and dying?

good morning!

anger has taken
up permanent residence
in my lower back

missed something

I keep bumping up
against the feeling I am
just now waking up

crop circle

what did I know then
supine in the tall grasses
sun. wind. skin. being.

rainbow

the colour of giving up
is not the colour of failure

next

at the very end
of a life of starts it's all
finished busy-ness

dinner anyone?

there's no evidence
of my butchery of fish
folded into crust