A Dream in a Costco Parking Lot

Also posted in Poetry Passion.

I was strolling on a hot summer day

in a field full of Van Gogh poppies.

I dreamed I looked like Troy Donahue,

tan and shirtless, wearing shades

as the gentle wind ruffled my blond hair,

wondering if I should date Grace Kelly

or how about Lauren Becall,

if she wasn’t too busy.

I stood in the swaying fields of poppy,

surrounded by a thousand singing Hobbits

with large feet and big hairy ears.

While flexing my pecs and bulging biceps,

a beautiful naked lady appears

with long, flaxen hair and ample bosom,

riding a Chagall white horse sidesaddle.

She invited me to hop on

bareback, galloping up to the sky

as she gently shared her 

moist, warm soul,

nibbling on my ear,

whispering in an all too familiar voice:

“Harry, I got a good deal on Bayer Aspirin,

but I couldn’t find any of those wet

Swiffer sweepers.”

Crow Tuesday: Ushering in a Dream

I want to hear the symphony

for free,

to see the rock stars

glitter up close.

I want to look at your ticket

like I’m reading your palm,

predict who you’ll marry,

what future you’ll find.

I want to shine a flashlight

without disturbing others,

without stepping on toes,

without spilling a drink.

I want to be an usher

that tells everyone where to sit,

that knows the theatre

like a seaman

knows his ship.

Crow Friday: Crow Yogi

Picture Poetry with a crow bent.

I dream of being a yoga teacher

Teaching a class full of black birds

Starting with the mountain pose 

And working our way into a bind–

Where we wrap our wings 

Around our back in reverse namaste 

While standing on one leg

Breathing deeply from the inside

Of the back of our throat

Tongue on the roof of the mouth

Belly to the back feather

Sphincter squeezed tight in mula bandha 

While closing our eyes to darkness

And seeing the light within.