Lilac

A fifty year old lilac bush

Grows forty feet tall

And reaches in

Through the cracked windows

Groping over the duvet

Pushing a frond of uber-fragrant blooms

Into my face

While I’m sleeping.

The perfume

Is inebriating

Giving rise to a drugged slumber

So deep

Dreams passed by in a blurred

Half-lidded vision

Like a dog’s head

Hanging out of a window

At sixty miles per hour

The dream-landscape being smeared out

Like wet tempura

Across a palette.

Breath slowed to a still rate

Inhaling the woozy pool

Of lilac

Germinating in the still bedsheets.

I woke up

Disoriented

And numb.

It felt like a narcotic hangover.

It wasn’t until I was getting dressed

That I noticed my wallet 

Was gone.

You sultry seductress bitch!

Hope you buy yourself

Something nice.