Tuesday, October 10, 2023


 Recurring Nightmares

Some speak of the horror

Of stumbling into a loud

Brightly lit ballroom filled with hundreds

Of unfamiliar leering faces 

Or the one where you’re giving

A speech in a packed lecture hall

While standing on stage completely naked 

And your notes are all written in Greek 

Others scoff 

At these imaginary nocturnal travails.

For them, absurdist improv is each

Unfolding second of their everyday conscious lives 

Where the moment after every moment is like waking up

Alone in the owled hours after midnight 

Bare feet on the hardwood floor

Shivering in cold tachycardic sweat

Trying to find solace 

In whispered reassurances 

About what’s real and what’s not—

Maybe it was all just a bad dream 

But they haven’t slept all night

And the sun is moments from rising


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