"Gangster Dreams."
This is a poem in two voices.
And it's just simply questions and answers.
"Who made gangster dreams?
The old moss on the brain.
Who calls to you upstairs?
One in winter without a fire.
Who won't listen to you talk?
I don't listen.
You can't talk.
What's that face in the bedroom mirror?
That's the gangster.
He's the gangster.
What's trapped beneath the cellar?
That's the gangster underwater.
Where's the house wrapped in fire?
No one's house, with no one there.
What slim victim cries for air?
That's the gangster.
He's the gangster.
Who made gangster dreams?
The old moss on the brain."