The Yellow Brick Road

I never lived in Kansas,
but in 1966 I met
the Wicked Witch of the West.

"The world is a dream
refracted in billions
of eyes," she said.

Taking a diamond
out of her belly button,
she held it to the sun,

Treading water
in the Sargasso Sea,
I notice that
the North Star has
gone out.

Dorothy, where are you?

I have been calling for years.

Soon my bright eyes
will be mirrors
for fish to write
cryptograms on.

Goodbye, Emerald City.

Like all dreams,
you can only
shallow us whole.