dead eaters on top of the castle

(the thomas fire via)

as xmas music seeps into
each mind's last dusty corner
it seems we all want stupefy
amidst this vast disorder
come, normalcy, & show us how
we yet may slip our actions,
causality be one more dream
& take but dream exactions

they say it's only lead-lined pipes,
not dreaming, whacked the Romans
i think our phones make knife enough
for all wrist-slashing omens
& sometimes when i'm driving home
through bottlenecks & barriers,
feel threatened less by fire & flood
than dreaming's jaws of terriers

"Ashes make the best fertilizer."