I have a gallon of blood where my thoughts should be
But butterflies in my midriff, more than pores
On my limbs, stir two paragraphs of dependent clauses
Sleep is a “life’s small pleasure,” except when everyone’s
Trying to kill me in my dreams. I took six Excedrin
And ten ibuprofen, all to no avail—real-life people
Are dying anyway, despite their daily chores
One-in-ten is possessed, & one-in-ten of those possessed
See that scary pyramid—the one crowned by the floating eye
On the dollar bill—in their dreams. If afflicted with
A third, I’d pick & rub & scratch until the nerves are exposed.
I do have an eye on a tie, both in my dreams & my closet,
But never around my neck. I have enough trouble seeing
Colors with the two on my face
Bruce Covey’s sixth book of poetry, Change Machine, will be published by Noemi Books in the summer of 2014. He lives in Atlanta, GA, where he edits and publishes Coconut magazine and Coconut Books and curates the What’s New in Poetry reading series.