Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Dream Agent

Your house was
made of legos
purple, white,
pink and yellow,
alternating colors
white facade, spotted
with pink, yellow,
purple drapes and roof,

Now I'm on the Hudson
talking to the man you
warned me about,
but I'm not me, see? I'm
someone else, a hired gun,
my target is unknown.

I am deep undercover.

We are talking and both
light cigarettes, the air is
cool and moist with rain,

we shake hands, and
I tell him, "I'm not
who you think I am..."

the door opens and I
ease my way in silently,
cats sleep in all corners
there seems to be a man
on the couch under them,
I know him somehow, but
focus on the cats,
I must not wake them,
If I do I'll never
find the target.

we are in a bar now,
sitting face to face
mid conversation,

I know I don't look how
I'm supposed to, I can see
myself from the outside in
and I've done terrible things.

"It's all over now," I say, "it's
time to retire."

As we stand, your eyes searching
both sets of mine, I feel a strange
weightlessness and reach behind
my overcoat,

blood, blood, without pain
it is flowing and I fall
coming to a rest on the hardwood
floor, I watch the thick redness
of the floor thinking,

"yes, yes, I'd like to retire here..."

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