Such a Dream

~Such a Dream~


Had a dream I was lying in a deep, open casket

in a funeral parlor. I wasn't dead,

and felt very comfortable there.


Once in a while I would hear people come into the room.

They would be talking. I hoped they weren't talking about me. 

I didn't want to be disturbed. It felt so good


lying in the coffin. Four walls around me rent free. No hunger.

No job. No cares. Flat on my back looking at the ceiling.

Free flowers. Free candle light. Free from having

to talk to people. All goes well. They just look down at me, smile,

perhaps wipe away a tear, expect no response, then leave.


The lid goes on

when I start to stink. 

Some brown guys dig a hole

and drop me into it. They have

eight more dreams to bury. It's Friday.






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Starward's picture

Although the subject matter

Although the subject matter is unpleasant for any poet to contemplate, you handle it with delicacy, irony, and humor.  The last two lines are heartwrenchingly poignant.


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