dream poem
I dreamed I was holding Betty Draper,
whom I haven't seen in weeks,
comforting her yellow coifed period head
in its break-up aftermath. It was
brightsiding, maybe, when I told her
one thing I'd got from the advertising men,
what one had shown me about anxiety and
drugs, forgetting that she wouldn't care.
whom I haven't seen in weeks,
comforting her yellow coifed period head
in its break-up aftermath. It was
brightsiding, maybe, when I told her
one thing I'd got from the advertising men,
what one had shown me about anxiety and
drugs, forgetting that she wouldn't care.