i'm in a large, old, drafty, unfamilliar house. it's late afternoon or looks like it by the light filtering in through the smeary windows. i hear a man's voice, ominous, coming from one of the upper rooms in the house and another noise that sounds awful and wet. i find a staircase and start climbing it, and his voice gets louder and deeper and i realize he's chanting bible verses. i find the room he's in, the door is open a crack already, and i kick it all the way open. he is standing there with a bible in one hand, held out as though he is at the pulpit, and he's chanting and chanting in a booming voice. in his other hand, he is crushing the throat of a small girl - maybe three years old. she is only hanging there, limp, though from the wet choking noises she's making i can tell she is still alive. i lunge at him, surprised to see i have a large rock in my hand already, and just as i get close enough to brain him with it, i realize the girl is me.

wake up from the noise of me shouting in my sleep.


later in the morning i dream i am in the livingroom and the dog is barking to be let in from the deck. i open the door and she won't come in, and seems focused on the area underneath our patio doors. when i lean down i see that some kind of animal has chewed some holes there and crawled into our walls. it is still busy at work, in fact, and bits of wood dust are wisping out of the holes as i watch. i step back inside and call leon to come see. he emerges from the basement and as we stand on the deck to see if it's rats or not, we discover it is in fact two old mangy cats. they crawl out of the holes they've dug in our home and stare at us. one is black and white and has medium-length fur, all matted and patchy. the other is a grey and white siamese-cross, and as i look closer at it i see that it is probably blind. suddenly the dog lunges at the cats, viciously. we are shocked as one cat retreats back into the hole but the dog manages to grab the blind siamese and begins shaking it violently in her mouth. the cat makes no noise but i'm screaming at leon to make the dog let the cat go. he says, "i don't know. there's something creepy and wrong with those cats." i keep screaming, "make her drop it! make her drop it!" and finally he makes a move to grab the dog by her collar, but it's too late. the dog rips the cat's head completely from it's body.

wake up again from the noise of me shouting in my sleep.

the worst married couple in the world

she made such a huge fuss in the mornings, the pots and pans having nothing to do with tea
still yowling and when pressed she would make-up her stories
and batches of pancakes:
whole grain.

the entire while this would happen and he would hover tentatively, forever in the way
and frustrating, but never near enough to solve her problems
or to stir the batter:
left lumpy.

she could love him in her strange way, her body uncertain but wanting to yield
an affront to liberation, torn between respect for herself
and release of shame:
simple tears.

but he never managed to find the way through that complicated morning maze she wove
angry for her mother's disdain and taking it out on dishes
clawing at the taps:
howling inside.

in wafts and tendrils his body moved away, quiet but still reassuring her in backward glances
(how can damage be undone in its making, he wondered)
and in free (stolen) moments:
found solace.

three hours ago:
scurrilous kisses left burn marks on my mouth; ribald love left bruises on my heart.

you creeping around my windows on rainy sunday afternoons, sniffing around my skirt resulted in
a crime of opportunity: war on my willing thighs.

you thief of sighs! your minimalist meetings, your condensed feelings,
remind me of someone i knew
a spring ago.

we went to catch tadpoles today

but there was a fence around the pond

with a sign that said:

"please don't catch the tadpoles, even with the intent to release them. the frogs are all endangered, which threatens all the herons.

and when the herons are gone what animal will thrill you with it's visage

standing in the muck-filled ditches on the sides of the freeway

while you speed past

crushing insects under-tire?"

i will not hold you

i will not hold you
to thick promises made
in secret compartments
dark
and full

unless the world somehow expanded within
and we found our feet
touching shyly, surprised to be
bare
and smooth.

i will not hold you
to sweet declarations made
in imaginary courtrooms, oaths sworn
indignant
and false

unless my dreams flew out-of-mind
and beat this reality down
so that lips and fingertips would flow
fast
and sparkling.