Hope Dream

Last night, total kleptomania, I tucked 
the universe down in my shorts then I ran
–scattering rogue, fleeing the scene, flat out quick. 
No one was looking. 

Soon I found a back street fog to slip into.
Home-free, I caught clawing cimmerian sounds
–that bopping cats do scratching doors wanting in. 
Got me to thinking, 

were those dream kittens? That’s when I checked my pants. 
The universe was not there. I had dropped it. 
And that’s when I began to wonder, what’s now 
keeping me running? 

Physics? I thought I knew gravity, how to 
suspend whims; we can’t be spontaneous till 
we get our shit done. Our scale, mass, magnitude,
like poems, had meaning. 

And love, its buoyancy, its stretchiness, its 
cool hell; thought I knew clouds, like Joni Mitchell,
but now with life’s illusions lost, what were clouds? 
Everything? Nothing? 

The universe–all of space, time, planets, stars, 
galaxies, all the matter and energy,
known and unknown spacial events–gone,
no longer happening.  

All, I’m sorry for losing the universe 
in a dream. I will try to snooze better in 
the future–-if there is a tomorrow in 
this dream. Here’s hoping. 

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