I sleep heavy I dream light
Where the pillow feathers
Poke around inside the head
Quill stuff you’ve never heard
There is a lot of merging
The human form expands moves
Into things, like a ride in the astral
Plane or the thought of being dead
For example
Take an orange
I push myself into it
And the sun flares the plume
Of the evening snow on the valley
The shivering black trees
The forest is all aflame
The parrot finch headbutts
A ripe rosehip, the juice dripping
Off the beak and back onto
The bright glowing orb
Sweet citrus nectar on a coal dark day
The bus stops short and the juice
Spits forward onto the white shirt in front
Of a suited man, grimaces says nothing
Grandmother with the gold ochre scissors
Snipping away, tending her Lion’s Ear
The fog of cataract clearing and now
Focussed and hard like apricot stones
Citrus light
The orange
I come up out of it
The ink wet pillow feathers moult
Spiral down inside the head
I sleep heavy
I dream light
