To Be With My Louis
Not really
Not true that I'm a junkie
Hopeless addictions
Invisible things
Not easily observable hopes
Dreams
Or simply images bringing relief
Painting the earth bright
Mostly pink fields purple clouds
Naked natives strolling
Smoking a cigar
Wondering whether
Disturbing fish flies crabs
It is true that
In prison
I had a dream
A visit by my senator
And another dream
Too grotesque
painful
No memories
Except my good dreams
When my cat died in my dream
I was told this morning
That was no dream
Grieving my wonderful Louis
Fallen asleep
To be with my Louis
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