a dream with gasoline nearly lit

awakens one to rain under the ancient trees as the silence undoes itself in living increments

here ar four am in a sleeping bag of fog

with one's head propped on a bike with an umbrella bungeed.on as makeshift shelter as the city unaware snores

in ignorant zones of nocturnal bliss or one's own dream labyrinth stew

had to dodge a car in my crosswalk yelled at him and he stopped after cutting me off but only long enough to think better of it

then a blur eyed yahoo approaches at the filling station as i put my beer in the duffel by my bike as i unlock it

then a guy wants a dollar hy the fast-food drive thru but i give em 35 cents and a woman in her car offers me a coffee

then the stoic bus driver hauls me up the mtn volcano to one's domicile in the unpeopled park where one's tree has sheltered man for two hundred years

digesting my fries and ale and regrets

at having left the ganja in one's storage 

dryly forgotten under lock for another hour and a half if the earth keeps trucking and the unrest

is civil only broken by heavy dew and scattered mind brushes