Last night
I dreamt

We were married
Man and wife

Our kids played
Brother and sister

In our trimmed lawn
In our white fence

We had
No cares

Trusted society
Trusted government

I woke up in a cold sweat.

Fast food and motel signs floating in blackness
To illuminate the night sky like child’s stickers
Plastered onto parent’s precious painting
Decorate the mighty treadmill we used
To exercise vehicular endurance and find
How many times can we note the golden arches
We traded hours of sleep to reach the city
Of a singing Mormon’s dream
He was only on a billboard for a week or so
You’re as warm as the city with twice the life
Making plans for another before we reach
Our trial home happy and tidy

Now where’s the one who’s seen the world
But still wants to be in mine?
In my lap on a couch in her living room
(I could go on to fill a children’s book
Like the lady who swallowed a frog)
Now she exists everywhere, my Malachi Constant
Who makes it okay I’ll never swim on Saturn
I like the way the green light illuminates my face
When I’m on my way home to see her at night

All the planets are falling
Much to my chagrin
From their fishing line and ticky-tacky
Out of the stucco cosmos.

The days are carbon copies
Of last month’s plans:
Work and meet with people who matter
Not enough that I don’t need reminding.

The second bookshelf isn’t quite full
But the knick-knacks look nice
Even the fake succulent
Helps to tie it all together.

A brown lizard on the wall
Still only metal
Extends his tail for a towel,
But all of mine are folded on the floor
Next to the briefcase-looking record player
I hardly use but use enough.

And the TV is in front of my bed
Where I hardly sleep but sleep too much
And now the incense has died
But it will smell nice all day.

When I leave the microcosm will crash
Except for the sticky ticky-tacky stalactite
My burnt out light bulb will be replaced
A star for a new solar system
If any god or goddess thinks to make one
But for now
The planets are falling.

Your embarrassed skin obscures my vision
Until I take off my glasses, always in the way,
Everything works around a pinkish hue;
All in my sight clamors for a chance, too, to kiss you.
We navigate the crowds of cool hipsters
Smoking away their silhouettes; we're invited
Only 'til breakfast, then we've got to go.