Dreams

In my dream

There is a black Buick

Red steering wheel

Chrome mags

*

The engine roars

At me, begging

Me to take the

Driver’s seat

*

The fine leather

Beckons me to

Run away from life

And just drive

*

But when I open

The door, it creaks

And the leather

Cracks and fades

*

Mold grows on

The dashboard

And it emits

A foul odor

*

Though the car

Still runs, it

Groans and belts

Slip and whine

*

I am locked inside

And the chase begins

The old car

Is not fast enough

*

Soon my followers

Are crashing into

The side of me

Pushing in fenders

*

They fire pistols

Through the windows

Tearing holes

Into my abdomen

*

The Buick slides

Around a corner

Flipping me over

Again and again

*

Why am I running

And when did

My dreams

Become nightmares

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