Monday, March 4, 2013

Visiting For Possible Revision

Leafing through stacks of old poems, most not published, I find some so well forgotten and, now not understood, I wonder...

Just A Cigar

Hairy Haw-Mouth swallowed Freud's cigar hoping
there would be fire where there'd been only smoke
at least something more than pink bubble gum
but waking found the dream unraveling to bare
a breast then another leaving tangled wool from
too many sheep to count and rose quickly to
write the dream's meaning on his slate the screech
of cheap school room chalk stopped him so he wound
the tangled yarn into two neat pink balls
tied them together and went back to bed

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