the pages of a bowl
refuse to waken up from a dream
good dream until all my adventures
played out, out in the street
played here as a kid, like travelers
a hated place my hips are
shut from saying yes
much more words, words that
such work for those dream.
like a song a small girl would sing
dawn, I would dream, the dream
the bottom, of the list pits
a dream I can recall my dream
the pages of a bowl and an empty soul.