In a compact carmine convertible
I careen around sharp bends
through the Swiss Alps.
Dark shaded men
pursue me in their huge inky Merc.
I hear bullets whizz past my head.
Then a high pitched ringing fills my ears.

Suddenly I’m in Bankok,
cross-legged on the floor,
sitting at an Arthurian table
surrounded by priests in sable robes.
The ringing continues.
It comes from a clunky old phone in front of me.
I pick up and hold the receiver to my ear,
but the ringing continues.

Unexpectedly the room fills with water
and I desperately reach toward the sky.
I am at the bottom of the ocean
and the sea is so heavy. It weighs me down.
And still the ringing, ringing, ringing in my head.
With one colossal effort I suddenly break the surface
and open my eyes.

I reach out and bring my fist down on the snooze button.

A deep breath, a long stretch,
and I greet the new day.