wet dream
don’t call us they kept repeating
in my dream
actually they were singing it
don’t call us baby
we’ll call you
it was as if wolfman jack
had somehow gotten in
shadowing me like a wild thing
running at full speed
every chance I could get
only the corners could slow me down
inside this inner city jungle
hailstorms preceded
intensely global temperatures
leaving everyone soaked to the bone
wondering what kind of animal
they had become
september two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I so get, “only the corners could slow me down.”
Thanks for visiting & commenting on this one, Cindy.