When an eye has a dream

when an eye has a dream

it steps over land, body & six sights

to say i am water.

i am not what john reed saw,

i am beyond troops,

i am water,

still,

graving shaved females,

since water can drip down into lenin’s choice,

war cripple,

being the new ignorant transgender

while aurora reaches the winterpalais.

 

i love kollontai.

i love goldman

they are my

rekindled suave

disillusions,

a

liberated prison

&

never an ocean’s fall into post pacific rounded fall.

hey prison, war cripple’s comings are the mined illusions ,

i love outbreaks

i love arrival

& actualization –

rise of manifestation

as well as ” cloud- dump”

since i consider what i saw:

a post pacific ocean & swamps,

a spherical ocean

like

Nausikáa’s ball

 

as bold,

as glowing

as a color throb

though

ppc is a rounded top.

 

i saw a post pacific ocean

a ball of water

holding thing, animal , being, all, afloat

–Martina Gertrude Siebert