Dream-Bound Inn
from Planet Middle Age
© Gerry Potter, 2010

You're bound to dream in Dream-Bound Inn,
Because in Dream-Bound Inn
Shining stars with Darkness,
Both headliners on the same double bill.
They waltz,
Quick-stepping the tangy musk of decades.
Such generous whores.

Infants age and crack,
Waiting for buses jammed with souls.
Don't all come at once.
Don't come at all.

Left by the log fire
Are tears being dried
So they, like tea-bags,
May be used again.
I hope there are eyes
Lucky enough to cry them
And spat sparks
Don't blind 'em.

I sit
And shadows pat my head
Like a toddler a dog,
Making sure I'm all there.
So affectionate and air-heavy,
They eat only sweet dreams.

Light catches face
And I've netted a fortune
In used-to-bes and always-wills.
Future's palpable glow,
Giving fast bucks
A run for their money.
Night stock
I baulk at eternities
Waiting to grab my attention.

Monsters bleed away
Like the vanishing damp spots they are.
Damn monsters,
And the ugly you am.
Damn mothers.

I raise my glass to constant ghosts
Chattering good times,
And, loaded with a lopsided smile
And sheer bloody-mindlessness,
Toast fortune
To the instability of memories.
I sip,
Into the blessed-out knees-up ease
Of inebriate immortality.
"It's a poet's job to document legends,"
They slur,
"To find titanium in velvet."