Brahma’s One Hundred and Fifteenth Dream

Brahma’s one hundred and fifteenth dream

rolls over the ripples of existence

Of people, planets, and pieces of random universes

Through the black silhouettes

of dead days,

Seconds and aeons.

The universe is washing

in Brahma’s subtle smile.

A supernova exploded.

A door creaked

the kettle boiled

an old man died

A little girl cried

When her drunken father hit her mother again.

A dead fish

floating upside down

In the poisoned river

while workers in yellow jumpsuits

roll the rusty barrels off the truck.

The helium atoms fuse

to form lithium atoms,

dark matter balances entropy.

A tank fires into an apartment building.

Brahma sleeps, smiling.

He conceived it somehow differently.

The one hundred and sixteenth dream is about to begin.