I DREAMED OF PAINTED DOGS IN BEECHWOOD CANYON – Lisa Mende


 
"I DREAMED OF PAINTED DOGS IN BEECHWOOD CANYON" – Lisa Mende            
I dreamed of painted dogs in Beechwood canyon
and God’s voice saying you may live in a land
of no regrets
and you will never grow old
but first you must solve the riddle of the Sphinx
the answers have been changed   
I will make you invisible with the past at your fingertips

and a language all your own
I will pin your secret name to a single tear

and turn your legs to a mermaid’s tail
You will be the beauty in a beholders eye

but your mirror will be empty
I dreamed I swam through submerged cities and drowned carnivals
And God’s voice saying you may live in a land of heroes

but the battle will never begin
I will give you dreamless nights and perfect days

but the sun will be blinding
All the maps will be washed clean

and the sidewalks will be quicksand  
Nazis will march through your mouth
I will give your own anthem with all the words in the world   
I will attach string to your arms and teach you how to weave
All the threads will be white

and the pattern will tell your life’s story
I dreamed I was held captive outside the door to my house
And God’s voice saying you may lose all of your fear

and monsters will drink from your hands
but you will always have thirst
I will sew you a suit of sand and you will be the hourglass
Your days will be ram’s horns

and you will kiss the lips of your ancestors
Your wedding bouquet will bloom again
I dreamed of funerals in theaters and God’s voice saying
You will dance away your shoes and find lost treasure

but you will live in poverty
I will make your skin ice and give you a tower

but your body will be numb
Your name will be inscribed in the book of perfection

but water will blur the words
you will stand on tiptoe next to walls and be fearless
children will spring from your fingertips
I dreamed of steps covered in sand and God’s voice saying

I will give you the language of animals and the eyes of an owl
the universe will sing in numbers
and you will bathe in rivers of salt    
candles will grow from the sand your breath will be music

but you will have no voice
your mornings will turn to glass

your lovers will turn to drums
your eyes will turn to paper
you will kiss your enemy’s mouth    



  
 

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