Songs for the displaced: 1

There is

Terror in

The morning

Especially the

Summer when

The light lasts

The sun springs

Up at 630.  Counted

A thousand

Stars before that.

When I wake

I'm scared

My muscles 

Twitch in

Witchy circles

I bolt from bed like

A crazy baker

Trying to save

A burning 

Cake he left

In the oven

Overnight.  My 

Dreams consist

Of ex lovers 

Traveling in

Large semis,

Impossible buses

And aeroplanes.

We're always left at the

Same place:  a lame

Ranch house

Below the Sandias

Where we find 

Curios, maps, jewelry 

That costs a fortune.

But the machine

Is always broken,

We cannot 

Go anywhere. 

There is the shaking

The hard shaking

In my legs and arms

As I wake consider

My day:   A long

Drawn out sun,

Some rain after 

A walk, stop

Running away.