A Poemdog

Dogs 2011

LAVALAND
(9/29/11)


she
was born
in 1970
but inexplicably
her heart belongs
to the 60's

as if
nostalgic
for a time
barely missed

she dresses
and decorates
with beads
tie dye
and macramé

Doors
Joplin
Hendrix
and Beatles
bounce off
our walls

incense
and patchouli oil
waft
down the
halls

there
is at least
one vintage
lava lamp
in every room
of our
existence

yes
even the
bathroom

arriving home
in early Fall's
dimming dusk
the windows are afire
with crawling
colors
of every hue

we sit sans
conventional lighting
watching
the glowing globs
perform their tricks
in glass galaxies
of otherworldly
pasts
as we recount
our day's
activities

finally
she asks
if I'm ready
for dinner
and I'll
flash
a peace sign
in positive
response

a click
sounds
as the white light
of the present
returns us
to life
at hand

lava
lamps
muted by glare
continue
their history
without
us