Tree House

I had a dream last night, so that’s where this
poem’s going in case you’d like to get
off now. I was reading a book in a
bar with Italian football fans, drinking
a Moretti, trying to finish the
final chapter wherein Female Hero
Whatever Her Dream Name Was needed to
get back to her tree house before the gods
unmade the world, and everywhere she went
the gods were feeling angry, and the gods
were in the woods, and the gods were in the
water, and the gods were shooting footage
for their website as they shattered the world,
and I trembled at the last of pages.

One response to “Tree House

  1. Shiveringly good. Those dream gods make me tremble, too.

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