CHRISTMAS POEM

I dreamed that
I was sitting outside
a cave, under cabanas,
with a group of short-haired lesbians,
being served coffee
by a man
with a bleached blonde mustache
named Scott.
We got up to leave
and we headed
back down a dirt road
north of Albuquerque
that passed by a lake,
a lake
with a huge WalMart
on its shore.
The WalMart
had a dock out onto the lake
and I watched
as male customers lined up,
one by one,
and jumped off the dock
into the water
and then sank out of sight.
We proceeded up the road
and then stopped.
I looked around me and
wondered what I was doing
with a group of short-haired lesbians,
me being the only male.
I thought back to the WalMart customers,
then I awoke
and remembered that it was
the day after Thanksgiving.
I thought then of a different man,
also named Scott,
who lives in that realm,
who never drank coffee,
and wondered if he ever
went to that WalMart store
and
maybe those male customers
didn't drown,
maybe later they just
walked out of the cave,
one by one,
and sat down under the cabanas
and ordered coffee,
seated among a group
of short-haired lesbians,
afterwards heading back down
the road
and then waking up
in their own beds alone
on the day after Thanksgiving.

While reflecting on this possibility
I stood naked in my kitchen
and made coffee.
Later I went shopping.
But I didn't go to WalMart.
-RavenHawk


Wayne's Writings