cardinal rule:
never use a toilet
in a dream
© Rachel Green January 2025
What terrors, giving me a forward taste
of Hell, wherein my life's aggressors dwell
in special countenance granted in haste
by trait'rous memory, dredged up by bell
and candle from the terrors of my youth
where I was but a ginger-headed sprite
(and also later life, it seems,) in truth
the men who made me cry and learn to fight.
Why cannot I dream of more pleasant things
the painter's skill and merry-making days
so full of poetry and art that sings
of such delight in life and love amaze.
But no, my dreams are filled with burdens old
and new, and now my feet are frozen cold.
© Rachel Green January 2025
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