last night i dreamed i was
stuck in a room full of sleeping old men
and that it was the house where i grew up
and that i knew most of them
as my own mediocrities
the moon shown through one long high window
i marvelled at its yellowness before clouds overcame it
i stepped carefully between the men's spread mattresses
mattresses everywhere
these old guys two or three to a mattress
all asleep half of them snoring
as i tip-toed in the dark until i got to the front door
where the rhythms of their snores
paced the motion of my hand
as i reached for the doorknob in the weird yellow light
there was just enough space to swing the door open
and stand in the face of the cold alien air
i saw the lawn the street
the old sycamore that i remember
from as early as i can remember
how quiet out there deep three a m
i stepped out closed the door and the cold air took me
the snores seemed so warm i could smell their breath
and taste their breath in my own mouth even away from them
nothing moved even the squirrels were asleep
blocks away i could hear a car running
from Auto Bio (2010)
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