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Beginning with a Line from Paradise Lost

Dreaming by night under the open sky,
waiting for heaven, I have no mother.
No, not this black-haired alien,
blood-red lipstick in the mirror.

The museum of modern art corridors,
the hallways of grade school echoing,
the stench of buses and lunchrooms,
everywhere I am, she is distant.

This is why my homework is homeless.
Only my checkered blankets love me.
Comfort me, my little pillow and bed,
dreaming by night under the open sky.

Selected by ZB for PoNE | from Number 1, June 2012 >> Table of Contents