Leo tolstoy wakes me up
when he tells me about snakes and lizards and flies

somebody new brings me to breakfast
and she buys me pancakes and orange juice and happiness

a young boy joins me in a walk to the co-op
and he holds my hand and teaches me how to be quiet

i am alone for lunch

a creature with three legs but pretty eyes drives me home
and he teaches me about love and empathy and trust

a man in a long coat throws a frisbee with me in the park
the wind on my face is littered with freedom and nice words

an old friend takes me to dinner
and she enlightens me on goodness

a handsome lad falls asleep with me in my bed
and dreams of ours tickle me throughout the night

my tiny lake-pool of subconsciousness
invites me to swim

so i jump in
and i pass all the brutes and one-legged monsters
and politicians with sweaty hands
all the unlocked doors with mysteries behind them
and half-smoked cigarettes from
everybody i ever cared about

it is very nice to smoke a blunt with a boy
(or a man)
who knows all the US presidents
and not to lip the tip
and can spell necessary without having to look it up

but still
i will leave even that
for a nice dip
in the rushing waters
past the filing cabinets of my brain
where the gypsies enter
and the beatniks roam

i lay still
and let the ants of yesterday and tomorrow crawl up my legs
and the pants of today's message
breathe freely down my neck
the best moment of my life
i was floating
and so grounded
at the same time

there's a parade full of biggs and goblins and bums
there's a shelf in the corner with gins and rums

there's a bite in the cake, where the sweetness lay
there's a bite in my throat, where the lord fangs prey

there's a fairy who sits and never tells
there's a boy who's been sent to all seven hells

there's big ears and hairy arms and floppy feet
and there's upside-down heads and kisses where the lips meet

sunlight tickles me in the jungle-wood
and smoking men and nice girls find me with eyes closed
i am quickly hungry and irate for blunts and breakfast

unnamed purrs drip down my throat
where the fangs sleep
slick scotches skip skillfully sharp
and beastie boys know how to kick it live

calamity and chaos and whos and whats
I am a girl who doesn't know what to wish for on her birthday
I am a boy and my dad wants me to throw the baseball harder

when falling asleep isn't enough
i fall deeper
and down a hole
A real hole
It is in my bed

My bed opens up right in the middle,
into black

I swirl down it and i pass
plankton
and sugar and lions
Oh my

I fall right down but i don't land in a room where i am too big
i land right on squishy moss
and there's little tiny's
and little fairies
and they sprinkle dust on me
and put some on my tongue

Next thing i know
I wake up
and everything is my friend

crooked teeth but pretty lips biting into a sweet slice of cheesecake
that sounds good
i will do that
when takers become givers
and old men stop snoring and
bus 39 stops being late
old ladies with young problems like to crochet
and sad men do comedy
faces in the sheets and ceilings and clouds and even
in    between
my legs
get lost in the abyss of strange
in my delicate brain
and ashed-on layers

i swear i could take a bite out of you