by Greg Baysans

Poet X

Dream of the Sour Orange

In the dream I return to a friend's townhouse
and find it abandoned, the door unlocked.
I go in and wander the large, emptied rooms,
decide to visit the upper floors because
there is a theater or stage I recall and would
like to explore. When I get to the upper floor
I find some room that was not emptied.
In what looks like a boardroom, white rocks
I sense are aliens occupy chairs around a table.
I decide to leave and on my way out, pass
a room in which I hear movement, peek in.
An old woman in skirt and a slip is donning
her wig, turns to see me, screams. I run.
She chases me and steals my identity but
I get outside onto the street. The dream ends.