Yesterday, I dreamed my skin erupting
into green blotches. They enflamed
my whole body until even my cuticles
matched the front lawn I lay sprawled on.
I only moved to lick
my bumpy lips
or when I saw a glistening mantis,
my rubber-band tongue whipped
her into my mouth.
At night, I was still there,
and the sprinkler spat in dumb circles.
The cold water waking me
to the sight of green liquid running
off my skin and
dripping back into the grass
Masashi Musha is currently a beginning poet, and will soon be
publishedin Direction Magazine and Poet's Ink Review. Masashi
has a B.A. in Communication Studies from California State