a poem a day for a year #10

by Amy Turn Sharp


I know it's so uncool to talk about your dreams

because not one other person really ever gets inside of them

to feel them like you do

and it bores folks to tears to hear

that's why they made all those damn dream dictionaries

so you can stick your hands in your pants

and sit on the comfy chair and be alone

with the garbage in your mind

and analyze

and keep your mouth gaping open

when you realize what you are made of

how crazy you must be

how sick

twisted

sad

 

but last night

I beat the living tar out of someone

I beat the shit out of a man

in my dream

and in the real world I have never been a fight

with fists

only words

 

it was so vivid

like bouncing flesh and

bone red knuckles

and I loved it

and my name was

Tiny Cleavage

 

How could I not tell you?