untitled poem.

Every time I fall asleep someone picks me up.

How does this happen?
I mean, I look to each place--each, as I nodded off, and I let it know,
You are beautiful.

And each disappeared.

I was swimming in a neighborhood pool.
The shadow of the ladder scowled on the green wall.

When I woke up I was on a marble baker's slab, and
Someone picked me up, coughing up flour, on a soft mattress.  I had no idea where I was.

It meant nothing.

People seem to think I just make things up.
But I remember everything.

The pink veneer on the steel opposite this glass partition
Is exactly like one in a dream

(I woke up, and something carried me.)