I Have a Raccoon Dream

I dream that tonight I am a raccoon And it is here in this body that I store the notion That my sadness will last forever, In the treasury of unclaimed awareness, Where pits of the peaches could never re-sprout... I dig deep into the indent of a Denver ravine, Gnaw knee-high into the hollow ridges of hominids and their homelands, Belly-wade in bottomless mud waters west of wherever they don’t go, though Lurid in my languor now, I laminate my slick turf onto Continental limestone slabs And, then, all-at-once, at noon, just like that, I call it a day. A tired little raccoon Can’t bear without a rest Through the midday... I arise as the coon falls under. Reclaiming Human Sorrow, my Wrong-Headed Brother, Waxing thunderously, now, in the mind’s cluttered cage In this day of coffee and chit-chat and left-turns, I’ll dream tonight I am a raccoon. So that we may both get out and roam.