Surreal Synthesis
The dream began awake, three decades later on a mud-dug road near Abiquiu
Because each wrong answer kills us fast
I am shifting to be a flowing end of sentence
Crafting sentience beyond my years to answer right —
Which will kindly kill us slow, the way
Nature scripts it when death splits after decades missing
The point of who we started out to be together.
This old dream did not begin in sleep
But in disaster — as three parents
One father plus one mother and a third
Who had been born to care for them —
Strangled knuckles on the weak carotid
Of a marriage doomed from birth.
No. The dream that saved me began three
Decades later, on a mud-dug road near Abiquiu
Where Venus chasing hot to lure on Jupiter’s rise
Stripped a frigid moon bright bare. Cold,
I fed dry kindling to a monk’s iron firebox
Then burned to ashes their mad chokehold
