the dream-tigers chew their way through
my school house, the burly one shredding, slicing
villages and hemispheres, the golden one nesting and roosting
on every page of every book, and their mangy cub swallowing
mustaches one by one. dream-beavers, dream-termites, brown
and orange teeth. they're trading my days for dimes, whole
months of dimes, and slurping them up
whole. while our eyes flip the world upside down and over,
the present becomes the past. when i read my palm, all i see
is tunnels of teeth, honeycombs of molars. it's all eaten up.
