Truth Was


She didn’t want to talk about

Dreams, she said.  She didn’t want

To cradle nonsense in her arms


Like somebody’s shrill child. 

Some things she said made

Me think otherwise, but her


Contradictory ways I told her

Were endearing and oh so

Human.  She said she didn’t


Want to hear it; that for ahuman,

Being human was no triumph—

She wanted to be the stone that bled.


She said listen, she wanted to play

In the dirt and get her hands

Dirty, to eat dirt and in that way


Remove the taste of old lovers

And other enemies.  Said truth was,

She really did want to talk dreams.



- Jon Ballard