I Dreamt I Was Brave
Another poem.
I dreamt I was straight
resigned to suburban probation
shackled to a Barcalounger
force-fed veggie burgers and cold brew.
I dreamt I was a painter
smearing, coloring
the universe, the grim crevices of This Nation
in my preference of chroma.
how ‘bout I turn this country
into the Queer, Non-binary Capital of the World?
I dreamt I was a vagabond
subsisting on greasy scraps and morning dew,
the choicest cuts of soil,
seeking shelter under a naked Arizona night sky.
I dreamt I was daring
a connoisseur of intense stares,
scrutinizing, examining,
all their pale, bloodshot eyes.
I dreamt I was a nuisance
hurling feces at high-rise complexes,
howling at parked, immobile SUVs,
flailing in my exclusive ecstasy.
I dreamt I was indifferent
removed and solitary
fully incapacitated
by my envious, compulsive ambition.
I dreamt I was a mirror
deflecting, rejecting
their surveillance and analyses.
They are barred from my establishment.
I dreamt I was a prophet
an empathetic chancellor
reprimanding shameful commonwealths,
restoring what life I can within my hands.
I dreamt I was dead
sculpting a stone-cold grey purgatory
eternally pacing an interrogation room,
making love to faceless archdeacons.
I dreamt I was a paved road
polished to a radiant sheen
my one policy would be this:
Skip
Skate
Cycle
Prance
Sing
anything but walk
I dreamt
I was brave
Noble
A fighter
Stellar writer
An echo
of my voice
I dreamt
I was brave
That I loved
Hearing myself
Say,
“You have stirred me.
You have roused me.
I love you all.”
I dreamt
I was brave
to have fear
in my heart.
