a store bought
dreamcatcher
oversaturated
with the sickly
sallow light of
secondhand dreams
plucked from
stray somnambulists
skulking sleepily
in shifting silence
slipping unknowing
into the silky abyss
another half desolate
little town out in
the dying heart of
nowhere texas
the fields grazed
until the red clay
bleeds into the
cerulean nothing
the sun sulks bitterly
lost in the shuffle
powerless against a
warbling axial tilt
while the dreamcatcher
hangs swollen and
forlorn over the
energy shots and
multicolored lighters
leeching dreamshards
from every sorry sap
getting lotto tickets
to scratch off in
the cab of red dust
coated pick up trucks
knowing there is no
escape from this
routine of pursuing
someone else’s dream