the clairvoyant dreamer
word got out I could see
killers in my dreams
the ones making headlines
the next day or week
month or year
I tried keeping it low key
but somehow word got out
and I often found myself
talking with strangers
one day a private eye
and sketch artist paid me a visit
asked me what I knew
about the back-alley axeman
after the eyes & hairline
had been perfected
the ears & nose & wrinkles
tweaked until just right
within a few hours they had their man
both on paper & in person
january two thousand twenty-five
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