Fred Aiken Writing

Category: Poetry

fervent nightmares terrorizing

sleepless nights of cold sweat dripping

down/around/up the bedsheet

of plastic horses being driven by

porcupines come to take their rightful place in the animal kingdom

complicated speech patterns

reaching high-pitched screeches

diagnosing unkind megalomania

that hopefully won’t be

held against me

sinewy meat rots evenly on the sidewalk

as ambulatory flecks of consciousness with lambent

radiance sidestep

sidestep,

over, then under, and back again, avoiding eye contact while making

sure to look up towards the clouds, head above, head in love,

feeling great to be alive,

feeling great to not be cooking