Wicked
      Dreams
     
    
   
   
    
     
      O
      wretched
      heart
      why
      persist
     
    

    
     
      To
      clench
      the
      hand,
      to
      make
      the
      fist?
     
     
      Thou
      hast
      no
      enemies
      but
      thine
      friends
     
     
      With
      whom
      guilt
      oft
      dost
      make
      ammends.
     
    

    
     
      So
      tell
      me
      not
      of
      all
      thine
      pains
     
    

    
     
      As
      Ido
      not
      care
      who
      it
      is
      that
      reigns,
     
    

    
     
      For
      all
      I
      desire
      lies
      here
      in
      this
      bed
     
    

    
     
      And
      with
      the
      sun
      we
      shall
      soon
      be
      wed.
     
    

    
     
      Run
      away,
      take
      thy
      leave,
     
    

    
     
      For
      thou
      art
      much
      too
      quick
      to
      deceive.
     
    

    
     
      Do
      not
      play,
      nor
      make
      believe,
     
    

    
     
      For
      it
      is
      of
      wicked
      dreams
      thou
      dost
      conceive.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      O
      vile
      mind
      why
      resist
     
    

    
     
      The
      passing
      pleasures,
      the
      perfumed
      wrist?
     
     
      Make
      thou
      a
      place
      for
      her
      heart,
     
    

    
     
      With
      which
      she
      may
      take
      her
      part
     
    

    
     
      In
      other
      joys
      that
      thou
      dost
      desire
     
    

    
     
      Of
      her,
      however,
      thou
      shalt
      not
      tire.
     
    

    
     
      For
      she
      is
      like
      the
      summer
      sun,
     
    

    
     
      Like
      flowing
      laces
      left
      undone.
     
    

    
     
      Steal
      away,
      come
      with
      me.
     
    

    
     
      We
      shall
      catch
      the
      night
      and
      set
      it
      free.
     
     
      Embrace
      the
      day,
      much
      like
      me;
     
    

    
     
      And
      our
      love
      shall
      live
      for
      all
      of
      eternity.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Anthony
      N.
      Chandler
     
    
   
   
    
     
      that
      never
      close.
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
          
     
    
   
   
    
     
      The
      pain
      Of
      Separation
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      from
      seks.
      |
     
     
      The
      confused
      state
      of
      realities
      é
     
     
      An
      transition.
      }
     
     
      Split
      seconds
      in
      time
      on
      in
      a
      Lifetime?
     
     
      GrOWLNgG
      pains
      Spurred
      on
      by
     
    

    
     
      mistaken
      identities.
     
    

    
     
      Too
      much
      pain.
     
    

    
     
      Too
      much
      joy.
     
    

    
     
      Nothing
      in
      between
     
    

    
     
      but
      Less
      of
      each.
     
    

    
     
      Sensitivity
      demands
      the
      search.
     
    

    
     
      Truths
      buried
      in
      silence
     
    

    
     
      Lxe
      waiting
      for
      a
      voice,
     
    

    
     
      ecstatically
      rising
      to
      the
      surface
     
    

    
     
      fo
      project
      their
      gifts
     
    

    
     
      to
      the
      souk
      of
      their
      provider.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Gems
      glowing
      outwards
     
    

    
     
      their
      beauty
      blindly
      ignored
     
    

    
     
      by
      vacant
      eyes
      that
      see
      outside
      themselves
     
     
      a
      flat
      plane
     
    
   
   
    
     
      whose
      eternal
      truths
      are
      trapped
     
    
   
   
    
     
      within
      the
      framework
      of
      thein
      idyllic
      seky
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Imaginations
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Empty
      versseks
      behind
      flaming
      sockets.
     
    

    
     
      Static,
      electrifying
      currents
      surround
      the
      magnetic
     
    

    
     
      forces,
      Suck
      hungry
      squirming
      maggots
      in,
     
    

    
     
      Teaming
      towards
      the
      blazing
      ingerno,
     
    

    
     
      4gniting
      the
      energy
      beneath
      ebony
      pools,
     
    

    
     
      smoldering
      in
      the
      flames,
      suffocating
      screams
     
    

    
     
      writhing
      4n
      agony;
      singed
     
    

    
     
      parasites
      blindly
      move
      en
      masse
      no
      Longer
     
    

    
     
      many
      but
      one
      whining
      down
      blackened
      cavities,
     
    

    
     
      hissing,
      4ts
      crusty
      shell
      crumbles.
     
     
      a
      Only
      traces
      sporadically
      convulsing
     
    

    
     
      against
      a
      pitch
      backdrop,
     
    

    
     
      eling
      Limply
      to
      Liplesaverds
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      UPEI
      X-P
      RESS
      February6,
      1992