I’m out on the streets
while the shadows are still long
trying to recapture thoughts and dreams
that disappeared before the dawn.
There was a hallway that went nowhere
and I was never there.
There was the smell of urine
lingering in the air
while liberals, Catholics, Freemasons, and Jews
were rewriting the dictionaries
that you disdain to use.
Someone somewhere
had barricaded the church-house doors.
Was this dream mine, or is it yours?
All these codes and signs
read more like yours than mine.
A thousands words of poison and deceit.
A thousand words of fraud and treachery.
And so it seems
I will be stuck,
At least for a time,
with all your distressing dreams.
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