BEETLES

BEETLES

2009

I dreamt you gave me a rusting platter

Of those mysterious red beetles

That are killing the mountain ash in our backyard.

I hear all this music and can’t find a source.

Tell myself I must be crazy,

And I will hide it well.

Hiding from myself behind headphones

Hangovers and long walks.

In love with unconscious dreams 

Where I run an old western boardinghouse

Overseeing transient acquaintances.

Drinking whiskey.

Days where I wake smoking soberness

Surrounded by broken chains

Metal slices what your dreams were first made of,

Mettle seems to be all that I lack.

Weighing my changes on a scale

Against the platter of beetles 

You ceremoniously presented me.

Beetles of doubt

Eating from the inside out

Dreams that will uproot me.