A Poem Fogged by Reminiscence

when ghosts laugh
showing molars of brass;
clouds scatter
and Dracula's scream crawls fungal in our vase.

let your clown cry for a change,
and when adolescents burn bushes in their minds,
shoot a pie and never miss the homeless
when downpours get the traffic into a frenzy.

another pillow fight with a dream -
we will harvest these raindrops once;
the sky's manure roots the crops, and
lets their rainbow's leaves in the sunlight gleam.