Awake as a man being stepped on

so I go get a big sour black one.

A man calls your name to a dog -

a big-time what-are-the-odds?

I just made a dream of you

or you one of me. The blur

lingers a little more lately -

corners appearing untrustworthy

(according to one of my pupils).

I walk an unbending loop.

A man car departs, re-associates

me with removal. A bird glitches.

Geese wretch at each other. Kids

in a lot play football with a coconut.

A man said lost time is never

found but us nomads have some

questions. I creak a bench

and listen to the mud.

I’ll be home soon

but really I always am.

Jonathan Focht’s poems have appeared in The Antigonish Review, Vallum, EVENT, The Maine Review, CAROUSEL, Circe, HASH and The Walleye. He lives in Montreal.