Walking towards the horizon,
flat-planed,
or hat-tossing anachronistic celebrants
hanging from a red and silver street-car,
all captains of their respective football teams,
and head cheerleaders,
in the days before helmets, shoulder-pads, and
endorsements
bring us back to the modern age.
I dreamed I was dying and no one cared.
The blacktop skin of this ceremonial parade ground
bled gasoline and blood
(the real, ancient stuff)
and we circled.
We all breathed deep the same toxins
and yet only I had the stunted growth
to let me pass through the meerspiegel
even now
was the culmination of dark rituals
to keep our grass green
fences white
Christ.
I dreamed I was living and everyone cared.
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