Dream Hammock :On Valentines day I dreamt that the world was snapping shut into a giant silo and time was due for a harvest....

Morning of February 16th

I left the mocha-geometry of my lovers arms at rest and danced home across continents of glass of puddles early Saturday morning thinking that perhaps I had been relapse in extinguishing the fiery pupil of candles in my apartment, realizing that I was seeking the nest of my futon, the hollowed foam of my dream train ferrying the inside of my skull with a laser light show worthy to make even the most devout strung out Pink Floyd fanatics blush with crimson envy. The welcome matted dawn of February morning the gravitational lull and sway of a planet nursing my every whispered ambition as if the atmosphere of my planet served as a stratopsherical crib to lullaby me into a upside down umbrella of dreams a mobile cumulus of angels skirting somewhere near the piano keys of my clasped eyelashes--shut as if wild in meditative prayer.

The first dream movement I found myself visiting Gary and Deanna, a rural Baha'i couple who reside in the sprawling yawn of prairie that is central Illinois. The house we were positioned in was a modern day log cabin. Joe Whitby from my youth was with us as well as Hippie Nikki. The congregation was socializing when I looked out the transparent sockets of the window and noticed that dual gyrating tornados were funneling towards us, emitting a Herculean sear across the deep gray of the plains. I herded all of my cohorts into the basement, looking for Hippie-Nikki before finding her cocooned in a beachwood kitchen cupboard, marshaling her into the basement where my peers were taking cover by adorning themselves with green tarps.

We turned on the radio to listen to the shrill and broadcasted caveats transpiring around us. The first tornado zipped into the direction of the house and then boomerang around it so, slicing into the house next door. The next tornado breathed and gushed in the distance and eventually slipped into a cement-colored sash and eventually into nothingness. While everyone was still burrowed in their mountainous clans downstairs I went outside to assay the damage. The farm house next door was completely demolished, but the overall dali-esque monorail that constructed same-colored suburban houses and shift them one by one into the suburbs remained functioning and unscathed.

I then continued to walk out in the dusty pasture and, upon finding my old white station wagon (the vehicle I once lived in five years ago when I was homeless) entered the back of the vehicle like a corpse and slowly drifted into rest.


*****


Two days earlier, on Valentines day, I dreamt that the world was ending and that
a select cadre was chosen by a universal secret concourse to be planted underground and survive the pending rapture. We would stay underground for 100 years and then
rise to perpetuate the aesthetics of humanity for a new group of men. When we were below, mutiny broke out and I was chosen by a small group of radicals to lead the insurgents into the welcome matt of a new age (which, incidentally involved murdering some of my gradeschool bullies)....after the sub-strata revolution deemed itself a success, I found my self in a dome watching the movie below:





As I watching the movie as beautiful shoulder-length black hair
woman wearing glasses appeared in the vacant seat next to mine.
She was attired in a marshmallow-white blouse and during
the flashes of Armageddon, she grappled my palm
as if she was seeking the answers to an esoteric enigma
before placing my palm on her left breast. I spent
the remainder of the movie groping her breast, listening
to the sound her lips would create when touching her
in such an intimate fashion. At the end of the movie
the lady turned to me and screamed. A middle-aged
man appeared near her opposite shoulder and claimed
to be her husband. He was wearing glasses with a slightly
bald egg-dome of flesh peeking at the top. I politely
told him that I was sorry, that I had no idea that
the radiant creature next to me was in fact his spouse
and that I was deeply sorry. The woman then said that
she was going to charge me with molestation and that
I would lose my post as the savior for the underground
new race of man. I told her then that there was
no way I molested her since she placed the lines of my palms
on her own breath and seemed to need them their while the
Armageddon movie transpired.

She then yelped and I found myself surrounded
by what passed as futuristic authorities and
I caterwauled my lips into the corporeal welcome
matt of yet another day.


*****


After the twin-tornados and station wagon hearse I found myself
competing in an Olympic size swimming pool, trying to impress
the judge, Tiffany, one of the dual money-grubbing
shylocks I owe 500 bucks to. I was swimming in a relay
using an empty GUINESS box to bucket water and bring
it back to land. When I arrived back to land (after
traipsing through a wooded quest) I found myself
in an academic classroom, vertically assaying
old books cached a single glass roll.
The pedantic prof.'s got into an intellectual
discourse where we were trying to one up the
other with our knowledge on Western civilization.
I quoted him Wittgenstein as well as James
Joyce's "Ineluctable modality of the visible."

The prof then said I could pick out any old
text to have a study. As I would pick out a book he would
say, "no, not that one." And then I would select again
with similar results. Eventually the only
book I was allowed to take was a sallow bulletin
titled "MISCONCEPTIONS ABOUT CHRISTIANITY"

I then found myself walking outside of the
school ensconced in a thick blizzard of snow
tears of ice flecked the side of my cheek as I
walked to the parking lot where my mother would
pick me up in a very fifth grade after academic
bow practice fashion. I waited in the snow and began slipping in the
ice and eventually found myself in the wrong parking
lot, realizing that I had to trek even further
in the cold and ice to get
to the destination, to find the vehicle
that would certainly take me home.