Glovebox Trauma

Driving around one day I heard a warbling.
It was annoying.
It sounded like it was coming from my dashboard.
I was really afraid my car needed a repair.
I hate the repair shop.
It’s full of flies.
At a stoplight I decided to investigate.
I opened my glove box and found a rain cloud.
The warbling was miniature thunder.
I couldn’t stop looking at it.
People were honking at me,
But I felt safe.


Day 7: Oh yeah

Today is Day 7. That didn’t take long.
I’m going back under today.
I think I’ll be all right.
I mean I was all right when I woke up.
Wasn’t I?
But I have to ask, which world is the dream?

Fictitious Brewster

I put down my 7th cigarette, left my apartment and headed downtown,
Swerving and cutting off the laggards in the left lane,
My Mini-Cooper rocketing underneath me…

It was one of those sultry days of summer when anything can happen.
And happen it did.
Once parked, I walked into the coffee shop and I saw her standing there…
her sharp cut hair was audaciously out of alignment,
her heels on the throat of my friend John,
what the heck,
and there was Mayor Armapple by her side smiling wistfully…

then I woke up, faintly refreshed unready for the day.