by Candice Ann Moraga

Last night I had a dream
And when I woke I had to scream

The daggers, knives – how they flew
And one flew right into you

Then your body disappeared
And everywhere – blood was smeared

I don’t know what happened to your remains
The carpet was soaked – spotted with stains

Though I was numb, I had a sense
I needed to clean up the evidence

I grabbed a sponge, I grabbed some soap
I didn’t waste time, and I didn’t mope

And while I poured the detergent on thick
The realization hit like a brick

Suddenly I was aware…
And realized that I didn’t care

And so I cleaned, and so I scrubbed
Into the carpet, the soap I rubbed

Then as I wandered on down the hall
My attention turned to the blood-splattered wall

I thought of converting it to abstract art
I thought that was clever, I thought that was smart

I used the blood like finger-paint
But Monet, Picasso, Rembrandt… I ain’t

Calm and collected – a murderess
I was more disturbed by the blood on my dress

I thought I should warn you to act warily
Before dreams morph to reality