Pounce!

The fingernail having scratched
a comet across the sky
pauses momentarily for you
   traveler
   dreamer

the comet explodes a swirling path
in the deepest shadows
your duty dreamer will be to follow.

Wishing Well

Marigolds for the bugs
and I’m  not ready yet

then, balancing a stick on his head,
the poet speaks his vision

floating on a cloud in the dark

but it was more like
stillness and  vibration

Choke

The phone rings and you’re jack-tailing it down a rabbit hole. It’s mostly dust and sweeping waves of heat. It’s turning constant spin and down and smash.

You whisper and the taste you feel is a scream. Shadows and nightmares scrimmage vying for ancient dread. One slipping gasp and down and smash.