killer

killer on the prowl
— how one tiny suggestive
fragment can reveal
a chink of light — the killer
is me! the killer is me!

Over the last few days (or definitely yesterday), the poems I’ve been blogging have felt as though they lacked direct reference to any particular dream image from the previous night’s dream. This puts that right. It’s bloody awful as poetry. Not sure why I think that. Maybe because it celebrates the joys of dream interpretation so clunkingly…….

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