Americano legends

Who can I blame but the ghosts who dismantle my brain while I sleep,
if I wake they’re not there but I know where they’ll be and that’s behind every person who is laughing at me,
anxiety?
who’s anxious?

At the most peculiar times
when Jupiter aligns with whatever
planet there happens to be,
stars fall about me,
the ghosts leave and
I believe in Santa
Monica.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.