there was that one well-written line from a dream /
that I can’t remember but still resonates in its outline and cadence /
a comforting ghost of a dog whose body heat may save a life one night /
radiant and fuzzy, enticingly naked through the steamed shower glass /
it twisted the earth slightly as a pocket book prophecy smuggled past subway turnstiles /
injected into waterlines flowing towards taps for newborns screaming as fluid turns to air /
tamp down the line as gift wrap in every infant stomach /
filtering babble through a worded tuning fork that line lining /
I pray slightly for our youth who digest the infernal knot
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