I don’t know where this dream came from, but it was pretty.
“It’s a shit village,”
Someone says, as the bus
Trundles past. The girl
Whose home it was says
Nothing. But
I can’t help but think
The grass so tall,
And the crops, bright
Green in the blue-sky
Sun, are beautiful.
Sometimes I have really long dreams. Sometimes I’m a guy in them.
I’m the heir to the estate of
A man who’s got two wives, and
Doesn’t tell the second one how much
Money he’s got, or where it is. So
My dad has lots of enemies.
One of them, they say, is hiding
In the mansion, picking off the staff.
But Dad doesn’t just give me money to
Live on, so I’ve got to make the trek
Into the bowels of the place, to the safe,
And pull some out. He sends Consuela
With me, for protection. But as we reach
The first escalator, and she’s telling me
It’ll all be fine, and I can’t see over the
Edge but I know someone is there,
I’m the one protecting her.
Crouch down, because drawing nearer
I see the guy on the up, with a crossbow
And a killer smile, waiting. Consuela freaks,
And I’m kind of glad when she runs into
One of my dad’s trapdoors – hopefully not
One with death at the bottom, so it’ll
Keep her safe. But I don’t get to it
In time myself, pinned against a wall
Instead, with the guy’s hands across
My mouth, around my neck. I fight it,
But I can’t, wait for the narrowing of
Vision and breath. But then he says,
Right in my ear, “I don’t want to kill
You. I just want to feel your voice.”
I don’t buy it, but if speaking will get me
All the way out of here, I’ll say anything.
Moving out is always easier in dreams.
My key fits
Room fifty-three
As easily as it did
Our old apartment –
But I’ll have to return
The one for the house
Now we’re living in this
Hotel.
I have no idea what this dream’s about really.
They are turning our river into
A theme park.
Music plays at all hours,
The sweeping scores of pirate
Movies, and to either side of our
Highway bridge there are
Barges of mechanical stuffs,
Colorful but
Unknowable from shore.
It will bring in tourists, but it
Will not keep me.
Subtextually Free 