Avoiding the Queen

When there’s no Game of Thrones on TV, my dreams make up the difference.


The only thing saving us

Is her stupidity –

Cersei, when she searches,

Does a poor job of scanning.

So we keep low, run while she’s distracted,

Move behind benches to avoid her gaze.

We make it to a cart, in the yard,

In direct view of her windows but

Filled with plenty of fruit and rags,

Thick things to hide our faces.

It’s a prisoners’ cart, but we aren’t chained,

And those who are seem subdued enough.

We trundle away in it, safer to jump it

Later than stay and be caught by her.

The Laws of Space and Time Don’t Work in Dreams, and Here’s How

I don’t even remember if Greenwich is a coastal town. But it is in my head.


Somehow, while walking

I traveled into Greenwich,

And took a luxury hotel

For my apartment by mistake.

I don’t know how to get back,

But the water here is beautiful.

Morality Paradox

I feel like discovering time travel probably would end up like this.


We have discovered time travel, but

Nature seeks to correct imbalance –

Every time we try to enter the office

With the intent to use our device,

We’re killed in freak accidents.

We are the kind of people who

Steal children off the street,

To use their innocence.

We are the kind of people

Who on finding alien life,

Will break a mother’s brain

To feed her child, because

We only need one.


Ever had one of those dreams that you’re sure you’ve dreamed before? Here’s one for me.


The church lawn sprawls

With an arts and crafts fair

I always stop at,

Park my car somewhere dubiously legal

Up the street and check to see

If any of the books

Are ones I like

This time.

One of my college professors is there,


He doesn’t notice me,

And I don’t say hi.


Of course the first dream I’ve remembered in about a month involves cats.



This whole ground will be


For now the festivities continue,

A feast laid out on tables patched together

So many, it makes its own island

On top of the sandbar,

Hundreds of tourists and natives alike

Learning the lore and science of flood days.

But in a corner strays a cat,

Thick with brown, mottled fur.

I pick it up and hold it as we leave,

Hoping it won’t jump away and become

A casualty of nature’s tradition.