Daily Poem: April 20

Dream about house

The first time I meet them, they’re beautiful,
draped across unsound lounges in the living room,
watching TV. Prominent members
of our seaside community.

My battered pickup is parked at the curb.
The staircase should have a banister, but doesn’t.
Cots are laid out in a honeycomb.

The internet says my dreams
indicate a preoccupation
with comfort and purity.

I wake up with eyes so dry
that I cry out in pain
and can’t open them.

Should you crawl
before you walk
or keep crawling?
Should you take the stairs
two at a time?

The cat looks out the window,
into the alley,
at any bird:

The shortest distance between two points.