Dream
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When you hang your clothes out to dry, suddenly you know the exact number of languages spoken by the clouds. You can walk around naked in the park, lie down in the grass, and let birds pick your navel deeper: the spleen is the last thing they eat. Soon you are your own ghost, swaying from side to side in the undercurrent of the wind between the houses on the street where you once lived. Before you wake up, the haunt you'll choose will be the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

From World Cut Out with Crooked Scissors by Carsten René Nielsen, 2007

New Issues Poetry & Prose, Western Michigan University, Dept. of English,
1903 W. Michigan Ave., Kalamazoo, MI 49008-5331
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