syntax

over and over i started

to read this book and fell

asleep and dreamed i’d read

and analyzed. three times i did this.

woke up still on page three, head

ringing with the last analysis in which

the poems were 'dense like gray slate, with all

these molecules just jammed in, just peeling

off.' my actual analysis wasn’t so good, the

gray, though, was a clever guess.

-

also i dreamed that you were with

me still, that we went to your house,

where i insulted your mother. woke up

guilty about the photos. and yet

i wish i could see yours

again, and what you said stupidly about

it before, “you and I and

happiness.” me, you meant. i’m glad

you stayed long enough

to make me a little more sore.

-

i’ve worked this one out. it is so

close. even this is a stretch that

leaves me tense. i am dying for

lack of syntax. how can it be snowing

again? how can it?