i dream

i am masturbating

in the middle of a hotel room

standing between two beds

sleeping friends occupy them both

i am limp and want so bad to come

but someone turns over in their sleep

and i am gone

i dreamt

of having viscious sex with you

you were eight months pregnant

and i don't know why

i dreamt

of creating a landscape painting

with a deep purple sun set

and blurry black animals in the foreground

with white stitching eyes

i dreamt

of drawing a self portrait

with an erratic and vague outline

of my soft body

but an intricately shaded image of my nose

it was meant to represent smell

and the clarity it brings

to memory

straight edge

carved into a rusting bridge

in a weed filled town

in my new jagged home

oh i

eighty on ninety four

your cracking tar is the fragile branch

for my timid little claws to inch out on

do you sway so easily?

do the whistling winds bend your western reach?

or will weighty water drips tip your

end into an early earthen bed?

no, you grow and flow towards the east

a sense of the sun's subtle warmth

a blooming expansion outward

oh i

eighty on ninety

little feathered wings in a whirling flurry

do they ever tire?

where do i land?