When
I was a child,
I would disassociate from my body
The Break of Daydreaming
I wander
through fallow fields of mind
absent of trail or tramped lines led
Lakeside Night
In darkness I lay still under stars,
the waves embracing me in the depths
of their singing, fueling my mind’s rush
Said Scylla to Charybdis
in a song
in a rage
Writing a Poem About Ukraine
I dream I am
in the hall outside my classroom
in a huddled group of girls
Dreamscape // with amaretto latté as time travel portal
I’m in the future wearing a powder blue pants suit and those pale blue heels
Read moreSomnolence and the Open Window
A cumulus of pillows
float pale blue sheets
Traumedeutung
Daybreak alights with kindling —
a first smolder of clouds
and wrathful glow
Such Stuff as Dreams
Their silky surfaces:
material so immaterial
you reach right through
Brain Fog
Women tell me it’s hormones or lack or age
or stress, but I know a virus chewed up bits
of my brain. Bruce got stung by a wasp, chewed
Witnesses
Their hollowed eyes stare
at emptiness.
My eye threads a needle
Between Waking and Sleep
Before the first bird sings,
I hear morning stir
like the distant notes
My Neighbor Wanders into My Dream
When my neighbor naps in his yard,
a blue-eyed darner lights on his brow,
its lacy wings open; and jeweled body
Eternal Night Flights with My Finnish Relatives
Not again. Here I am flying lilting laps in my childhood bedroom—
flying nightly, quietly, right under the ceiling, close enough
so that I can swat down corner cobwebs,
Second Chance
Like the time I dreamt that destiny was a blue horse
and leaving home on her back was chasing the stars.
Secret
The rope can’t unknot.
A blue hand
above a broken chair.
Pandemic Dreaming
Before the expiration date
I renew my passport
as if I could travel again, as if
Awakening from Our Respective Dreams
My wife and I find ourselves in the predawn gloom of February in
Read moreThough First Thinking of Those Sequences
As the apple songs John Berryman seems to have invented the form while
Read moreRoxanne Visits Her Stepsister in a Dream
What? Your bedroom’s a mess.
Why so many clothes piled on the rocker?
And where’d you find that poster of a