(c) 2003
In
this dream
I
live with my ex in a houseboat.
The
living room pitches—
my
beer bottle
rolling
in and out of reach.
It’s
impossible
to
keep my cigarette lit.
Shark
fins slash through shag
as
if the carpets were waves.
We
argue,
which
is familiar—
our
mooring gone slack.
We’re
carried out to sea.
Storm
clouds gather.
Waves
rise into tsunamis—
and
all the while he is still bitching
about
his missing socks.
