A snake cut in two still has poison in the head.
The body looks for accreditation.
It will not go lightly into the night.
Creating problems and undermining hope.
It encourages excessive paper towel collection.
Organizing day trip turns unorganized.
Front door suddenly is stuck…or is it me?
Car was left running all night.
A friend shows up although none were called.
“IT’S TIME,” he announces with intent but not malice.
We drive to see his doctor friend for what I surmise is an unannounced mental check-up.
Doctor not in apparently, he’s taking a government mandated fifteen-minute break.
A buxom red-haired beauty fills in, taking my excited pulse.
She shows me the quilted garment she is sewing.
Buttonholes are missing but thread finds an opening.
That opening transports me back to an apartment I lived in fifteen years ago.
In my absence the snake has had my car towed.
This dream exits on a soft buttery cloud.
Going to the store now as I discover I’m out of paper towels.