In my dreams there is always a popular disease,
something everyone really wants,
something you can say you really have
with certainty, a certain land of
last chance strumming and numbing of desire.
In my dreams the pretty girls
need it the most, that [...]
To lie in the street. To be
at the bottom of this puddle
dark as lead. Near the curb, in the muddy
cold water, to rot like the leaf
of a poplar. Underneath the streetlamp.
At the bottom of a puddle. Like a ticket
from a tram or the scrap of a newspa [...]