As the giant slowly removes
His foot from my chest
I awake
In dreams we make love to the fat
Play cards with the pilots
Pick my teeth with tree branches
The morning is filled
With dirty carpet
And minor victories
Broken noses and
Stressed out waiters
The quiche of the day
Is melting in the glove box
Sticky rain and foggy windshield
The rules change with each pit stop
You’ve become kind with the
Dependence of strangers
Coincidentally stereotyping
Scolding the scolder
Learning how the faucet works
The hands are not always out to get you
Sometimes they are there to wave
To hold the flowers
Show us where the wind
Is blowing from
The cat at the top of the stairs
Has been waiting for us
His eyes are speaking like Alien waves
We must get very close to hear them
We must risk the hisses
and the sandpaper tongue
Who knows?
It could be good news
Schwervon! 