Radical
A dream is a reality as true
As daylight drenching, scorching skin on face
And throat. A dream is fact, an ultra blue
As seen through telescopic sin and grace,
A denseness like Magritte’s and Dali’s dreams
If they were dire blue diamonds in a cloud
Of brain and mirrors. Dreamland has deep seams.
Nightmares come out from star stuff like a crowd
Of giant blue ones dying in among
The white and red and yellow stars. They burn
That hot and briefly in a mind that’s stung.
It’s in our night they roil and churn.
..Dreams sizzle like a frenzy, one attuned
…..To sex. A dream’s no scar. It is a wound.