The Comedian's Kiss
In the dream he tried to kiss me.
His sweet funny disposition
was a penny candy from my long,
And then he kissed his wife
and his flock of tiny children,
on each of their tiny crowns.
I was a miserable wretch,
sleeping on a dirty mattress
in a stifling apartment
with my slovenly family.
Spiders of all kinds
marched across my headboard.
No one cared.
There was nowhere else to sleep.
Terrorists plotted around the corner.
The city’s grid was gone.
It was now amorphous and infinite.
The comedian's lips melted into red wax candy;
an unkissable mess, a soft, red aroma.
- - - -
What kind of dream is this
in which the dreamer
Copyright 2018 Rachel A Levine