The Dream

The Dream by Sean Roper

Let me tell you the dream I have been too.
Its not that different then now
there is only one change.
the plants walk the earth and
flesh grows from the ground.
Insects are the grass, birds the flowers,
people as our trees.
Trees style their leaves, dress in fancy leathers
run to lose weight, watch TV, build homes out
of people putting small potted cats in their
home to freshen the air with CO2 until the rose
bush knocks it over.

Willow trees are fighting over their small
seedlings going to Court with a jury of oak trees
Who Judge and laugh at small jokes.
Then a few young bushes running with their
barking cabbage. Run on the insects kicking cats
and pulling puppies from their roots.

Trees cut us down to make leather books
use our oils to cook. Pick out birds to
give to their wives as they violently attempt
to fly in vain before they wither and die.

Forest of people crying as fire ravages them
no one can hear them they cannot hear
each other. They watch their babies being taken
away to grow alone in a crowd of others.
Crying and nothing can hear them.

Then when they are old enough
the plants desire to eat them raw as
they are already on the bring of death.
I wake from this dream walk down the hall
go to the fridge to have some carrots and
dream again.