my dreams are insensitive creatures
biting and tearing at my daily endeavors
forcing epiphanies
and condemning realities
a congo cotillion
of dark course haired monkeys
a’ flockin to the mental symbols
of bananas and cream concoctions
that only exist
in the nights after the hundred watt lights
have been flicked away from my mind
into the dim recesses
of perspiring time
trading heartfelt congratulations
and debating the misled miserable monsters
in charge of important negotiations
this is an investigation
into the most private of privates
the places where X marks downtrodden buried souls
and cyberspace soldiers
dig unassuming black holes
where legions of bare breasted tropical dancers
bear the faces of worrisome mothers
and psychology takes a holiday
in the face
of every family member murdering
while laughing at the tragedy
my dreams are places I dare to tread
for I cannot help but fall asleep
and though I wake up smiling or screaming
I at least
wake up dreaming