The Interpretation of Dreams

Colleen O'Brien

All the stage is
bearded like a pard, is

justice in her.

All the quarrel, satchel,
hose with eyes

severe.

               A ballad to her.

All the wide is
creeping like her

beard of formal
cut,

the cannon’s mouth,

sans teeth.

Big manly pard, sudden
like furnace his

big manly
ballad.

               Eyebrow.

His shrunk.

Last strange of
all a world

too wide.

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