Sunday, November 16, 2014

Leering Masks and Nightmares

from Felos ainda serra

Tonight my sleep was restless.
I could not stand: undulating feet.
Nor clutch my mother’s face: tidal.
Nor shut out burgeoning masks.
Sleep could not be thrown  over
those leers:
too thin its cover.
Struggled under thin sleep,
a geyser of worries.
Dangled naked,
joggled by jets, gratuitous jibes.
Gas jets and phlegmatic one-way mirrors;
there was nothing else but are walls.

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