Late night pizza
I am in a dream catching crabs last night,
They crawled on the macadam
And under a car
Into a brown paper bag filled with irate dreams.
My hopes and my dreams.
I caught crabs that turned into bacon
My mind was awake
But my body asleep.
Why do we dream?
Then do reflect
On what might have happened
To this old redneck.
poem by John Shea
Added by Poetry Lover
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