The Window is trying to tell you something...

Dances in the dark with a microphone
and a razorblade.

The devil’s in the freezer
with Dillinger’s bank roll
and the smoked salmon

that was caught in the mouth of the Pontratrain.
I cascaded on,
deeper and deeper,
through you spine,

moving through the heated beats,

black cat on your grandmother’s carpet.

I sang of presidency and clockmakers,

the same destination,
different names.
God racked across the volcanoes

that sunk Atlantis to the ground,
and the raven screams the descent

of the Mayan calendar.

Out of the corner of my brain,

I saw you shudder,

the town burns,

the apothecary replaced
by math equations.

Do your dreams ever resist
what the mind believes to be true?

I thought swans were swarms of bees,
and are you to tell me,

that they are merely white birds?
You are boring,

when you pick hide and seek,

over trauma and heroin.

It was not enough,
never enough,
to sit across from divinity,
head down,

reading your newspaper,

pleading the fifth amendment.
- Megan Coleman

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