VLADIMIR PUTIN INVADES MY DREAMS
By Andrew Hidas
Fresh off the shingles vaccine,
my arm sore, body leaden,
spirit damp and porous,
Vladimir Putin invades my dreams
through a long night I long to repel.
I want him out! gone! no more of
those lizard eyes and pursed lips
bearing down on my weakened
defenses, looking to run
roughshod over all I hold dear.
Groaning to a barely wakened state,
I lapse again, the nightmare resuming,
the assault relentless, Putin throwing
all he owns (and he owns everything)
into a fire of his own making
as lives all around us burn.
Names cross my consciousness
like some Ticker of Times Square,
dissidents facing the unspeakable
of poisonings and prison,
their courage inconceivable
under Putin’s soulless gaze.
Dawn looms and the thrashings of night
only intensify, pleas from the gloaming