Dream Noir | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Hudson Valley; Chronogram

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Dream Noir

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I used to dream of Kerouac’s
road but this one doesn’t
lead to Cuzco
          Machu Picchu
Rome
but a maze of a city
where I lose
my car
my keys
my shoes
all cards
and papers.

In this dream noir
friends flicker and fade
the score pounds a
rock on my skull
maps are pointless
keys stick
elevator buttons
are bare of numbers

When I read the subtitles
I learn where I’m going.
Where all roads end.

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