Home

Each step is noticed and forgotten as the scenery so slowly becomes home and home and home until my living room is a puddle and my mind an empty breath

Eventually I’ll stop having violent dreams
This is the perpetual prayer
My self-manufactured infinite rosary
Piling onto the floor, the hallway, through the door
Tomorrow to be recited yesterday to have been recited
Dictum aeternum

Still it can only provide so much hope
Here is one facet of reality so quietly sleeping
making soft noises and breathing slowly, unconsciously

Here, another, the door is kicked in and everyone is lined up against a wall and given a live grenade for each hand,
one of them is shot in the stomach, most likely a woman
Someone’s wife, no doubt
the door barred the windows boarded guards posted at a safe distance
Even in dreams what could anyone have done

The dreams will slowly drift along as they do
I’m sure of this
Perhaps I’ll sleep calmly dreaming of more acceptable absurdism
To wake refreshed and calm