about me: a dream

i took a nap this afternoon here is my dream: i am in a story that seems strange to me about a country far away across the sea and by a sea there’s never any rain and nothing grows not even lichens on the rocks the people there care for birds. they keep the rocky rookeries for herds of smoke gray crested sea birds and in the long winters they burn bricks of dry and ancient bird shit. when the nights roll gray the clock around under coverlets of woven down, the sleep on neat and warming ash heaps

Posted on 2010/09/08, in poetry, writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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