Dreamwatch Poem by Julia Luber

Mean distance from here to the sun. Front row center on DREAMWATCH has begun….
I think the main star just looked into my eyes. Almost contemplating just what disguise
I've uncovered this weak. As that is what my dreams do seek- isn't it? Aren't they?
Isn't that what I was cornered into for today? For my dreams to be on DREAMWATCH
dictated by the law: the murderer, the terrorist- rattatattat, guffaw. And this was all
through extortion of what my dreams were meant to be for: a spouse, some children,
a career's open door. Some money, some winning, some spinning of love. But now
it's been pooled into the legal system's commandments and demands from above!
And then when I deliver the work and report the circumstance of their concern,
they don't even pay attention. As if it wasn't even my turn. As if just because I'm not
part of their law enforcement payroll, they will not include my profiling into the
legal archives' scroll. They've hijacked my dreams and put me on DREAMWATCH, but
when I deliver-it's just thrown in the trash trough. Not the LAPD or even the FBI
ever read my pro filings of people so on the WANTED list: My, My. As if they imposed
the Dreamwatch and enslaved me to it, just to corner me out of a money and dating pit
and leave me with nothing-no victory or conquest: just for them to feel like when
coming to my concerns: it is time to take a rest and not even pay attention. How much
money could I have gotten for turning that guy in if they had bothered to read it? Did
I even mention? DREAMWATCH. Edge of the Sun trough. Act of the crime, embezzling mine.