I dreamt I was a kelp forest swaying in pitch-
-black waters. Above me moonlight fluttered
like confetti and seagulls roosted on cliff-sides
and buoys. An oil tanker drifted by, the workers
playing cards and smoking cigarettes as though
they hadn’t a thing to fear on Earth, for in this
world everything was in its place, schools of
Mackerel in the sea, lighthouses promising
safety in the darkness, tides brushing
beaches, rivers sanding rocks, and everywhere
good people sleeping safely in their beds.
If you’ve ever chanced upon a peaceful dream
and stayed asleep despite knowing it’s unreal
and tragedy is the blanket keeping you warm,
then you understand what it is to be awoken
by a pair of rough hands around your neck and
a hungry mob setting fire to the ripe fields,
spitting gibberish about the price of eggs.
