Machine Dream
by Susan Terris
- There's an alligator in a jar who purples
- against a purple river and greens
- against green rills. He is growing so fast
- sharp teeth score the glass.
- It breaks and I,
- visoring my helmet, confront him.
- Our contest is slow yet earnest;
- and we are walled by the cinnabar red
- of a machine, innards
- throbbing like a foundry. I advance,
- gripping not sword but red mouse
- with a long tube-like tail.
- Angling vertically, I elude the gator,
- unsure if gravity will hold me.
- The mouse bites his own tail, and I
- use him to change direction
- as I maze through narrowing tunnels.
- But I'm sluggish, and the gator is
- behind me again. Slick as death yet
- purposeful, he creaks his jaw.
- Now I reach a dead end. Curbed by walls,
- I lift my visor and drop the mouse.
- Then wrapping myself
- in white, I pay out all lines of control.
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