Lobotomy Dream

After the surgery we got the report.
"Nothing to be said concerning his
eating five apples with a
knife and fork."

This was at night, a lobotomy dream.
The dream was about things leaving:
mothers, freedom, brains, big metal objects.

In the dream we made the darkness ribbon up,
one little globe in a drawstring,
to convince Goldilocks,
blonde curls hanging town the ten stories,
that we were only fairies, to be adored
and feared a little.

Then I stole little packs of cigarettes,
too small to smoke, from the Army.
They were there to help, but I only
wanted to don my medal. My friend, whose
face shook in the sun, told me, "Get out!"

I woke from the dream and went to the street.

Down there was the Black Dude
fighting with his boss, the Ice Man. Black Dude was
asleep on the job.

"I wish I had a camera!" said the Ice Man.
"Yeah, yeah," said the Black Dude.
"Yeah, yeah," said the Ice Man.
"I'll pull out your eyes, man!" said the Black Dude.

In the dream we were prisoners,
but on the street we are free,
the Black Dude, the Ice Man and me.