A Rippled
Nightmare
(Lima, Peru, in the wee hours of 4-24-2016)
For a
full moon yesternight, the moon gave
the musterseed sun a full tilt (it was
shattered bright)
The
Sandgrain sky of Lima, today, is doing as always, conjured by the ocean’s waves, in the
whack of the wind
Its cold
tongue tolls its bell, in this
prickly down fall.
The claw
tracks of the cat, as well as the vultures, condors, crows, sparrows and
rats, seize the sky, and the Rimac!
The
livelong river, carrying only minnows, drained from its farfetched fish.
This
night, there were but two falling stars, steered to some blind cage covered by unbolted mist
hammered into
the dark matter of space.
Now light is so long away (its 11:12 p.m.)
I pray my
dreams will not bring as it did last night
—bring, the bones out of the hills to haunt me!
My
nightmare made my brain into turnturtle dust.
I woke up with a cavernous face
my wife quaking for me, for calm!
#5176 /
4-24-2016
