He hates his dreams,
not because they are horrible
but because they are exotic.

He sees his dreams as creatures
from endangered species
who can’t be killed
because the punishment for hunting them
far outweighs the reward.

He wants to let the gate to the dream pasture
stand open all night so the wolves can get in.

He tries to lure out the dreams
by placing salt licks under
his tight-closed eyes so that the dreams may be
drawn into the open and driven away.

He builds a blind, sets traps,
and one night snares one still alive.

He offers the yowling dream upon
a smoking altar.

He wakes up and wonders
if even that was a dream.

He asks his neighbors next morning
if they heard
strange howls
last night.

He is amused when they shun him,
turning away
with blood still fresh on their own hands.

the gargoyles in notre dame’s niches
were put there to keep away demons.

the church of santa maria formosa in venice
has a monster’s face over the side entry.

dragons bring luck
in china and japan.

in my sleep i kill dragons.
i keep gargoyles in my garden as curiosities,

bring out the monster mask
once a year, and then only in the dark.

i am pretending when i say
i do not understand

why i will have to
die someday.