Disappearing Dreams and AK-47 Daydreams

Disappearing Dreams and AK-47 Daydreams

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

Forgetting most, he searches in between

His dreams and in between his other dreams,

His daydreams.  Dreams are more like toluene

For him.  They flee.  Psychiatry’s keen fleams

Cannot bring colors that have disappeared,

Not even if they come from darkness, coal,

Petroleum or Hades.  If Freud peered

Himself, this patient’s mind could not unscroll

The nightmare shriveled penis fears that if

This man has had…they’re gone as if they went

To nowhere’s nowhere.  They are like a whiff

Of nothingness, blank ghosts that left no scent.

  The daydreams, though, have teeth made up of suns

    And semen, too, as powerful as guns.

Phillip Whidden