the animals dream (1)

This poem won Honourable mention in the 2003 2-Day Poem Contest

"What do geese dream of?

Of maize."

-Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams


inside his salty shelter the badger smells himself.

he is the entombed pharaoh reading hieroglyphic dreams.

outside the snow piles up, inertia

fumbles at his door but cannot move the stones.

the pharaoh sleeps. he waits.

the river under Faucette's field drips slowly,

when will the cup be filled and tip

to wash him with its waters?

he yearns towards the quilted grubs,

their saucy saraband seductive as the call

from any Kairo market stall. their heat defies

the barometric pressure's drop. he is beguiled.

but now, through dark, roots grow, their ribs surround

his sleeping form. he groans, blunt-snouted,

noses at the nets that wrap him close,

his opiate stupor turning blue sky

to litmus red of poppies. he digs

his heavy head beneath his paws, cries out

for mother with her bursting teats.

he sobs. and now the river's dry, the ferryman

returns him to the shore. he curls into his claws,

growls once to hear his voice. I am, he dreams,

I am, I am, and then he sleeps again

Published online June 01 2003.

This poem was a winner in CV2’s annual 2-Day Poem Contest. Every April, CV2 challenges players to create a new original poem that uses all 10 words of our choosing. It’s poetry under pressure for prizes, publication, and personal bests. Learn how to sign up for the next 2-Day Poem Contest.

Art of the Game cover image

This piece was published in ‘Art of the Game,’ the Summer 2003 issue of CV2.

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