Random Acts of Poetry

Random Acts of Poetry

Instructions for Monday

Today you are upside down,
in the dead place,
the sky gray as basalt.

Houses kneel near the edge of the street,
all the doors barred,
windows blank as eyelids.

Grass grows tall and perverse
in the tiny yards,
like your morning hair, unruly scalps.

You follow the sleepwalkers.
They seem to know the way
better than you, underground,

across the river to the factory,
where a black dog
dozes on the threshold.

He has three heads,
three slobbering mouths
full of teeth vicious as knives.

Step over. Take the seat saved for you
in the center of the egg crate.
Close your eyes, palms turned up.

Think about a golden ball
wandering an endless pool table.
Think about a poppy red like fire.
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