Lucid dreams arise after hazy
Safaris through tangled vines of
Neurons and synapses in the jungles
Of sleeping gray matter
Searching for the swift and innocent prey
Among the hungry carnivorous beasts

During REM
When nothing is black and white
transgressions provide
The playlist of ominous electronic dance music
Announcing the opening scenes
of today's daily rushes
missteps create nightmares in 3-D
fueled by a steady diet
of content creators spreading division
Endless hours of True Crime
And rerun marathons lusting over the brilliant minds
Of Reid and Alvarez
Until the jarring sound of a DJ’s old school scratch
Our breath grows short
we bolt upright then sink down
eyes in an airtight squint
as the scene changes
A dramatic rescue
Into the wishes we are to shy to visualize
Or speak after daybreak

Julia Masi

Streaming
energy drains from stiff wrists
nimble fingers do the talking
without eye contact
we slump into the grip of isolation
our chests  tighten
like a vise around a ripe tomato
the loneliness erupts
In a shower of pale flavorless depression
we grasp for light

Streaming
like a rogue poltergeist
from the palms of our hands
from thin glowing notebooks
and tablets on our desks
teaching  the false commandments
etched in the dissolvable stone tablets
Promises of quick fixes for exhausted neuro receptors
Passages into elite kingdoms
Where partners choose us
we return hour after hour
chasing warmth of a dopamine hit

Streaming
bonds us over games and banal conversation
where the shelter of connection
collapses under the weight of intimacy
faster than the roof on a house of cards on a wobbly table
where false friendships
and sleepovers with bots
bind and gag us slowly
with their velvety dark suffocation
and addiction to an  artificial community

Julia Masi

Wind
bouncing off the brick walls
like a tennis ball at Wimbledon

Volleying
between two apartment buildings for hours
leveling cardboard box condos

Sheltering
In a makeshift urban mid-Autumn camp
A treasure chest of ordinary matches

Ignite
candles in deep inside an aluminum cans
recycled to warm the stiff fingers of sleepless

Transients

Julia Masi




© Jul 4, Julia Masi

Crushed By The Weight of Truth
Buried,
Under the dusty rubble of fallen bricks
From a condemned house of secrets
Haunted by betrayal and fear
That the skeletons of a heinous crime
May fail to turn to dust


Suffocated
By a the silver electrical tape of pledge confidentiality
I am bound to a rocking chair
Outside of his empty closet facing the cracked window
where the wrecking ball of posthumous justice
Has lost its momentum

Julia Masi

Venomous words of self-defense
Swallowing self-preservation
Listening to the cackle of charlatans
A clique of laypersons
Who wear pink on Wednesday
Diagnose my critical thinking skills and logic
As a dangerous mental disability
I held back
Venomous word self-dense
Because I’m not a medical doctor
Just an academic, a meger PhD