I Dreamt I Was an Alligator
all teeth and hot,
wet breath stomping about
on my new-found squatness.
My body was torpid, outward elbows
moving skyscrapers, that
scene in a nightmare
where the director Slows. Everything. Down.
But then, everything
was vibrant, crashing
and I was alive
mud-yellow ivories snapping shut
on the rubber tent stake
of a flamingo leg,
feathers muffling the splintering noises,
crumpling pink and red on my tongue.
Jessica Dawson is a modern-day Wendy. She lives in California with Peter Pan, a baby bear, and a future Supreme Court justice. She’s ecstatic to see her first book of poetry now e-published by Verve Bath Press/ Words Dance.
She has had poems published in Thunder Sandwich, The Hold, Passenger May, killpoet, Words Dance, remark., The Seed, MEAT, Triptyph Haiku, Lit Vision, Mastodon Dentist, Nefarious Ballerina, The Montucky Review, Red Fez and Slurve Magazine. Download your copy of her book here.