Sunday, May 22, 2016

Dream place

May 21, 2016

I drink wine when I can find the time,
But stirs up my sleep with dreams,
That are not quite out of the past,
I always drift back to that cold water flat
I settled into when I turned 24,
A hide out with almost no heat
Where water even froze on top of the stove
And the stand up stall in which I showered
Was all I had to keep me warm,
I go back there in my dreams like a thief,
Scared the landlord my catch me
And demand rent for all those years
Since I last lived their for real,
Yet as afraid as I am in those dreams,
I feel as safe as a hermit crab in a stolen shell,
Like no other place I have lived past or present,
My Alamo with pealing paint
From which I might resist the over complexities
That life has become when I am fully awake,
Even now with my eyes wide open
I ache for that place, and the simple life
I lived there, and slap my pockets
Each time I think of it
Wondering where I put the key.

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