poem in which everyone is safe in glass

in my dream we break our legs.
we sleep beneath the underpass 
& stand with glow stick teeth. 
i check my bank account like a heart.
is it still there? is it made of muscle?
weeping in the mother closet, i heard
my family saying, "there's nothing left"
over & over. i keep falcon in my wallet.
train them to hunt for hope 
in the ragged post-rain forest.
it can be merciful to kill a spider.
to say, "instead of an animal i will 
make you a metaphor." closed closet door.
syringes in their little hot dog holders.
of all the places to go, i chose the city.
buried my bones there. when they 
dig them up some people will say
they're female & some people will say they're
ghost. kicking the tin can until
it becomes a skull. the only thing
worth living for is transformation.
werewolf night. i take your photographs
& i welcome them into a shadow box.
do you remember when we were
shirtless as the sun? how, through
glass there is always a halo of iridescence. 
goodbye gumball machine. goodbye birds.
the existence of stones suggests the existence
of whales. one is coming & we will
have to find a way to keep it alive.
could i borrow nine lives? could you spare
a handful of ones? i just want
to take a ride to buy french toast
& eat it like a last meal.