One Man’s Trash

I dreamt
about her
last night.

Some women
are vipers,
let me tell you.

I’ll show you mine
if you show me yours.

And then we’ll quibble
about what belongs
to whom to start with
or in the end and
then I’m awake.

Laughing but nervous,
glad to have survived
and victorious, at that.

Snakes attack
when they
feel threatened.

I won’t deny
that I’m unsettled,
but then I realize
she is the one
who is striking
out at me and
then I can’t
stop giggling.

Still half asleep
and put off
by that face
in my dreams
but satisfied
to no end that
in the end


And I hope
she doesn’t
ever wake up
from that
I had the most disconcerting dream. Talk about waking up full on horror heebie jeebies to the max. But as I’m lying there in bed processing the thing, this slow smile creeps across my face when I come to the conclusion that it was only a dream, for me, and for the other person featured, it really was a nightmare.

All. I. Do. Is. Win. Because I say so. Boom. It really is that easy.


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