in the dream (poetry version)

at night in the long racks of warehouse parties
poor and wayward wrestlers stream in
from the countryside
their poor torn and dusty leotards
marked with the colors each
of their own persona

revelers gather in tiers
to watch the glom
and rasp
of human puzzle pieces
as each an asp

does the floor in failure
match
an oracle

and next door instead
others lay in beds
drinking wine from huge carved cucumbers
watching old broadway musicals
and ecstatic dancing

the plays are held on packing crates
and large wooden discs
presided over by huge
misshapen candle golems

our light is blob
and poor
and warehouse

theater
and wrestly