The nightlight made
a beeline to hell leaving
me to count sheep blind.
There’s too much real
in the bits and pieces
pounding my eyelids
from a CNN dream book.
“Something’s happening here..
Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong”..
Déjà vu comes with its…
we been down that road rerun,
and still the peace pipe is without smoke.
Who’s that little girl? She looks a lot
like me, but she’s smiling too big.
I cried when they killed the Mockingbird,
but the bus driver told someone to shut me up.
They always sit in the back of the bus.
Talking head has a prayer book that
says it will buy him more votes. I can’t
keep from staring at his hair that is as slick
as the words coming out of the other side
of his mouth. It must take a lot of hairspray
to cover up so much pretend.
Sheet pulled tight across paranoia
I fight the clutch of closed eyes.
Rest begs for the curtains
to keep the light out…I just want to rise
from this crawlspace to find flowers for my hair.
©Susie Clevenger 2014
Anthony Desmond over at dVerse Poets Pub challenged us to slip into a dream state and write what we saw. To give a little background on myself, I was born in the 50's, and saw everything from then up to now. So I did some dreaming through decades.