DREAM
WORK
I sit
on the stairs of
a
brownstone ( in New York I like to think )
on a
day of comic book weather,
reading
from a copy of Ginsberg's poems,
finishing
a last line that says,
"Then
I closed my eyes and went
to
work."
I move
from the stairs to a bed
that
sits in the front flower garden,
and
lie down.
The
sun flicks off behind
tissue
clouds.
Then I
close my eyes and go
to
work.
First published in 1984 in Earthwise
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