The Unicorn of Route 13
My skull has opened up again
between and above my two eyes.
Through this quarter-sized doorway,
aberrant brain reaches out in a long horn,
a tunnel to unimpeded mind.
Little eyes of the many-eyed me
have fallen off and rolled.
One, under the passenger seat,
or driving — watching as the coffin-lid
of bony skull is shut by
A trickster doorman waving “Bye.”.
Coffin lid closed and dead
to me out there,
I begin to dream
of men raising barns together,
because that’s what you did on Tuesday,
twice a moon.
Or else, in what barn would you live?
The game of hide and seek
already started, I rest my horned head
to count with eyes closed
in the virgin’s lap made
by my two arms and the steering wheel.
I arrive at work.