Selfish Poem

by John Guzlowski


Let me tell you something:
I rise early. Fall asleep fast.

As soon as my head
Hits the pillow, I’m gone.

I don’t dream often
But when I do
Either God is a major figure
Or there is sorrow and snow
In my dreams.

Once I rode my bike
Into four lanes
of Chicago traffic
By accident,
And my past and future
Were there before my eyes.

I could talk about that moment
For hours.

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