the gap between dreamland and reality
is getting harder and harder to bridge

i wake from dreams
of watching people die
and the newspaper headlines
scream tragedy at me
while i choke down cups of
bitter black coffee.

bitter, like the deepening hollow
at the pit of my chest.

black, like the asphalt
where the bugs are squashed
beneath our tires, wheels
about town but whoops, i
forgot
where we're going
this time

''topeka is soulless'', i say
beneath the crackle of radio static
and you sip your tea
and i don't think you heard me
(i wonder if
you ever do.)

forty have died in train wreck in
india, says the announcer but
i've never been to india
or anywhere else
worth going to

so why should it matter
to me? but really, it does
as you swerve to avoid
a squirrel
that might have been trying to die
anyway

and we spin out
of control, towards
a cement truck -
and you scream
in terror and
i smile

(i've a feeling we're not in kansas anymore.)


a/n: the space between life and death is getting easier and easier to feel.