Daily Poem: April 2

Dream in which you’re flying

Dream in which you’re flying

The noises you’re hearing are normal.
You can’t leave the house.
That’s the pile of books getting taller.
That’s missing the package delivery
because you were in the shower.

It happens every day.
Also, you clean the sofa.

A little personality
is possible:

You burp acid or eggs and sense
the continuous act.

The kids hate us
because

we’re fighter pilots zeroing in
on a flock of birds, black
against the impossible sun.