Yellow Mama E zine

The Worst Dream

 

by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

 

I dream of guillotines

and of the words of birds

and of red buckets overflowing 

as I wake up in a bar

drinking with death 

wearing the same clothes,

each of us without shoes.

Death is a stone killer

one of his vendors tells me.

Death is always bumping

off sleepwalkers

as they walk the streets.

They lose their way as

Death decides it is over 

though it seems arbitrary.

Nothing makes sense in 

my dreams like always.

I smell coffee as I sleep.

Soon I will wake up wearing

the same clothes as Death.

This was the worst dream yet.

 

Luis lives in California and works in Los Angeles. His poetry, art, and photography have appeared in Black Petals, Blue Collar Review, Kendra Steiner Editions, Medusa's Kitchen, Rogue Wolf Press, Venus in Scorpio Poetry Journal, and Yellow Mama Webzine.