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B. A. Forsberg

of

Duluth, MN, US

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Dream 009 Eight 7

by

B. A. Forsberg

Perpetual Myth
sun rise sun set
icecream from heaven
cotton candy delusions
clacking card
spokes of a bicycle
wagon of the realities.
Who is the hunter
tromping through the brambles
brandishing a squirtgun
following Moses nowhere?
It is I
sipping fresh ground coffee
from a 1950's thermos
a steaming speckled tin cup.
What do I seek?
I thought it was you
but I suddenly woke
cold and naked.
Crumpled blanket on the floor
TV hissing at the moonlight
an ejected VHS tape
I slept but did not.


Waiting For The Mail Truck

by

B. A. Forsberg

Ever so patient
Folding of hands
Like dinner time grace
head bowed.
Giving thanks
Lord Webmaster
Five megabytes
free space.
Like waiting for jello
to chill and solidify
Deep freeze my emotions
they shall not spoil.
On netscape, on yahoo
on outlook express
look for your reply
my message devined.
Enlargement prescriptions
teen porno delete!
Insurance and home loans
how to get rich.
thought that I saw you
clicked on the line
five hundred pop-ups
flash 'fore my eyes.
Where are you my dear
to whom I had written?
The summer has slumbered
from fall soon comes snow.