Poetry of Issue #7        Page 28

What The Dream Knew

electric maps
printed out directions
while i navigated
on an ancient river of rage

my ship was bristling
into clarity sliding
down its own whirlpool of deceleration

it was she stepping
into the air floating
near the shore standing
on the fog behind
surging
my heart was beating loudly
i could hear it pushing

she placed it at a distance in front
a thumping mass of blood and vessels

all I needed to do was reach for it
to know if i was still here
but it was so far

in the past i could look carefully
as if searching for a lost set of keys
knowing to wait for acts of destruction
to complete
following directions
from those still touching
the smooth edge
of things breaking

  John Silver