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01 January 2024

My 2024 New Year's Poem

SEVEN SLEEPS FOR A NEW YEAR

i.

When I wake
It will be the first day
Of something new 
That tiptoes along a telephone wire
Catching fragments
Of conversation
And writing them down

ii.

I was snoring
My leg was in a weird position
It remembered a joke
About a calf who mooed
But it was a leg calf

iii.

My teeth were grinding
My enemies
Into something
I could live with

iv.

The brownshirts chase me
Up the stairs
Soon I have
No more floors to escape to
I shove open my eyes
Reach over to the night table
Sip some water
The brownshirts screech to a halt
They mutter
Scratch their heads
(One head per brownshirt)

v.

I yawn while sleeping
My stomach growls while I eat 
 I write a poem while someone reads one of my poems

vi.

The digital clock
Beside the glass of water
On my night table
Throws a red 3:26
Across my still face
The spider dangling
Above my head
Double-checks its watches

vii.

I was sleeping
I was not a hummingbird
I was not a can opener 
I was not a wisp of campfire smoke
My head lay on a pillow
And a dream snuck out of my skull
Curled itself into a ball
Went bouncing off the walls
And out the window
Into the dark sky 
Into the cold night
Into the broken world
Where it fixed everything


Stuart Ross
1 January 2024

Over and out.

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