Sweet Dreams is an actual business,
An inn on the shore of the Slow Lake.
I know the couple who own the place,
And they're nice enough, although they want
An awful lot to let you stay there.
And who would not pay well for sweet dreams?
Those who know they can't be guaranteed,
Those careful not to characterize
Anything good or bad beforehand.
The darkness of all allegory
Lurks in the shadow selves of meaning,
The way a word can turn and cut you
With irony for holding it fast,
For pressing too hard. Ask Goody Close
Or any others in the forest
Following a pastoral devil.
Ask yourself why you had that nightmare
Asleep in suddenly hungry waves.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.