something I made for someone who wanted a poem about the dreamworld

I Am Aware, No I’m Unaware

I extol not in the least of things, no

Nothing in life but the silent cannons

Rolling, flood tide in my mind.

Or sometimes the circus

Enchanting, always — immense

Wrapped in drapery

But the floods

The floods and fountains

They always ruin the circus

And with the flood

Comes a ship

Carrying my hesitations

A sliding door

Abruptly wakes me 

I know now why I hesitate

Darling, I’ve missed you.

So much.

A sliding door

Inherently shut.