I Wake and Find my Life
Was Dreaming
My dreaming makes reality unreal—
The dreaming makes my daily life more dream
Than actuality. Then daydreams feel
More vibrant than my life and make it seem
A vanishing mirage, pastel and pale,
Like watercolors spread across a sweep
Of spiritual paper. My night dreams sail
Like pitching, rolling oil tankers deep
In maelstroms above the Mariana
Trench, life like a Caribbean cruise in
Ghost-blue boats, more like midnight Montana
Painted by a saint who only licked sin.
My life is like a photocopy of
Death. Dreams are hate and everything above.