Dreams Suck

I just got up and know already I

will have to take a nap this afternoon.

It isn’t that I didn’t get to sleep

or sleep for long enough last night.

The problem is I slept too long and dreamed

the whole entire time I was asleep.

I’d lost my way in a metropolis.

No matter what I did or where I went

I kept returning to an alley way

that stretched for miles with run down tenements

on either side except it was a street

in Italy. The road was granite blocks

swept clean and washed and ready for the day,

but it was noon and all the shops were closed,

and I was sliding down a tile roof.

If only I could grab the panther flag

I knew that I would find my way again.

But when I reached for it I found that I

was standing on a narrow mountain bridge

above a raging torrent far below,

and I just knew the only way that I

would live would be to jump. I hadn’t any choice.

I don’t know why. I simply had no choice.

The rotten timbers broke. I fell into a cave

or an Etruscan tomb. I wasn’t sure

just where I’d fallen. It was glorious.

Stalactites and stalagmites all were lit

within with golden light and all the dead were housed

in marble palaces. The streets were filled

with silent shoppers. It was Christmas. May.

The trees along the road were in full bloom,

and I was running in a marathon.

My bedroom’s dark and quiet, and I’m glad

that I am finally awake. The dreams

are gone. And when I go to sleep again

I hope I’ll have a dreamless sleep. I’m tired.

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