Monday, March 18, 2013

My Man's Moustache

the universe converges
on black cats
the road I am on
the universe folds
us into the night
to dream of the morning's
toasted cinnamon Danish
pastry and a double double
no toil no trouble
at our five and dime 
last call teatime
it's closing time
the sun has set
put the baby to bed
heavy weights on eyelid covers
makes the dreamstate
a sure thing
a date with destiny
but just one last look at the day left
behind by minutes not hours
as slowly slip these bonds
and old bygones homeward bound
it's time to take
a peek-a-boo
a looky-see
can my eyes absorb anymore?
it is at this sunset sweep
the sandman cometh
in this dream to be
not much different than the waking kind
maybe much more emphatically emphasized 
on the coastal roads
we know so well
 call it a night
be done
we're done in
we're all spent
from the star beams enchanting entrance 
to the ceiling wax
curling fitfully
beside me
my head slightly
my neck stiffened with the window's cold breeze 
my man's mustache seems to be
real or is it plasticine?
and so it is
a quick adieu
a peck
a hug
a remember when
as it is on this very same road we've been on
in this night's endless spiral succession
we crown the royals new world universe
so see
that the universe
as it should?
ever more
and under
these conditions
we nap
hibernate when we feel
so vulnerable to any future
in the return of  The Ice Age
credits roll
your role is primo
and in these wifi worlds
in scifi
on the high fidelity
give a high five
light the way fibre optic unicorn
dolphins rescue the dogged dauphin
ours is so onerous a task
that I forgot
to bring a flask
and a carry on
lush green dreams
of enormous proportion
a lushness, a undisputable
loving energy
salutes us
takes us aside
debriefs us
in the sway
canopy of serrated palms
we rock in the floating chair
soon to breeze by
get some shut-eye
shhh huh?
its always been us
so I've been told

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