What Are You Thinking About?

In my dreams,

I clutch a bat

in my right hand.


I pummel

hair gel through heads,

wound thin mustaches

purple with glee.


I swing wild at

polos tucked into slacks

and clipboard-holding hands

who dare ask my phone plan.


I murder anyone

bold enough to acknowledge me.


I run nude through the streets

where no cars drive,

no eyes ask,

what happened to your clothes?


The love of my life

transfers to San Francisco,

I’d really love to come.

It’s just not possible now.


My family joins a cult,

now so much happier,

I keep the money

for the deprogrammer I saved,

spend it on a trip to Shanghai.


I read novels on the porch,

a shotgun at my side,

don’t look up

when I hear the footsteps.

I just shoot

and shoot

and shoot


Until nobody knows my name.