Sunday, December 30, 2012

Sick Fantasy

saltine sponges
float around in hot broth
I can see clear to the bottom

my mummified motions
under wet heavy blankets
smother my postcard dreams

every sip of yellow Gatorade
reminds me that somewhere
a beautiful woman
glistens on a beach

I close my eyes
feel sand on my knees
but it's crumbs in the sheets
I sneeze