Postcard From Hell (XIV)

Written by: victor dixon

I awoke in a kitchen
on a pillow of aprons;
my body covered with bruises 
from a mob of angry patrons.

Then I came to in my bed
with all my ex-lovers
and their menstrual blood
absorbed by my covers.

Then I was asleep on the freeway, 
alone in the carpool lane;
drove off a bridge in California
and woke up underwater in Maine.

Then I was alive in a coffin
snuggled with a teddy bear –
a knocking at my door,
but I pretended I wasn’t there.

Then I was back to the mirror
engraving my eyes with glass;
as the lights went out,
my ears started to laugh.

Then I was shivering on a pier
with a needle in my arm,
and my intestines unraveling
like a ball of yarn.

Then I was behind steel bars -
opposite a prison guard;
telling him your address,
and handing him a postcard.