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Dreams of his vermin

He showed up
Mostly in black and white
Or shades of gray
In the dreams of his vermin

The fleas placed him on the edges of a party
Walking about filling cups of blood in a jolly way
The blood was a bright bubbly red
So much so that it radiated off his light gray cheeks in a way that made him a merry part of flea fantasies

In the roaches dreams and even in roach reality his face appeared and disappeared sporadically on tiny crumbs and minuscule pools of grease
He was always droning on about something
Something foreign
Something human

The mice always saw him in shadowblack
Nightmares full of clanging iron and dark dark blood mingled with hair and dust
These dreams were always reeking of perspiration

Unless he heard a scurrying noise or had to scratch in bed his dreams remained free from all of them and of blood and bad smells
His dreams were full of color and music but if he had taken time to stay longer there
In his dreams
He would have seen legs and shells and rumpled fur trampled under foot
And if he snored on long enough for the music to stop he might have heard them screaming out
in pure terror

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2 responses »

  1. Well . . . what can I say? You have me thinking about the “public service announcement” category. 🙂 Thank you!

    Reply

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