wish cavern

i'm taking my coins.
in my pocket their faces talk
about promised lands.
manna garland-hanging.
i roll my wants up
into beach towels 
& stuff them where no one else will see.
dreaming becomes more dangerous
each & every pinwheel.
yesterday i set a bondfire
inside a balloon.
god is playing the trick
where the table is set
& the clothe is yanked out
from underneath.
there is a dairy farm where
all the cows spill nectar.
we bring our buckets.
flowers for their eyes.
once i drank a can of soda
full of bees as penanace.
for weeks my throat hummed.
i found honey beneath
my fingernails. i have yet to decide
if it would be better 
if wishes didn't come to me
like depths. drilling deeper & deeper
until they are the home of
skeleton eco systems.
cave fish & bats. 
i take a flash light & go
searching for an off switch.
the basement floods 
with light bulbs.
the coins are not enough
i am sure. i remember though
once i lit a candle 
in a catholic church 
for twenty-five cents.
i can't think of what or who
i lit it for but maybe
that came to fruition.
maybe i gave up to easily of prayer.
then again, i leave spoons
as the foot of the mountain
each & every day. coins tossed
into a rattling void. 
clanging as they go down.
i hear their muffled voices
as they discuss the possibility
that this was for nothing.
i respond, "i can't think like that."
i would just cease to exist.
a potted frolic where i used to be.
my leaves ringing like bells.