Where We Dream Our Dead Alive
We have slid into bed again, too tired for sex,
talked out. We collapse from the million mundane activities
that make up a day. It is in dreams we unearth our respective dead,
carry them up and back
to life: your one-legged father, and mine,
yellow and shriveled, sometimes swollen and dialyzed.
We ask rhetorical questions among the wreckage.
We say, You shouldn’t be here. They buried you,
to which they raise an eyebrow or admit to fault they never would
have in life. There is so much more to say, but we are too tired.
We suspend them here for seconds that will follow us
into the bright eye of morning.
BIOGRAPHY - April Salzano earned her Masters Degree from University of London and teaches Writing at Westminster College in Pennsylvania. Her work has appeared in several print and online journals and she is currently working on her first collection of poetry and an autobiographical novel examining the moments of pain and beauty involved in raising a son with Autism.
