constructing poetry

an unexpected dragon

last night, I drifted
through fever dreams,
past the stories I knew
into strange,
twisted landscapes
where roses spoke
in riddles, and a thunderstorm
rested, calm and tame,
behind my left ear—
and dreaming,
I knew all was
as it should be until

an unexpected
dragon poked her nose
up from the shrubbery
and asked me
to teach her multiplication
and I didn’t know what to say,
because the numbers
were chasing me,
and I woke up,
cold and wet,
as though licked by unexpected
dragon fire.

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