Last night I dreamed about television:
i. Sometimes somebody takes out a Valentine classified - "I think I love you" - and I blush and blush and blush.
ii. Scooby-Doo sometimes. Me and three teenagers in a large broken house; mystery is afoot, and terror is afoot, but we are giddy. The big house burns down around us as we leave. We've unmasked the bad guys and killed them with the available tools. We can't be fooled. We can't be stopped.
iii. In one dream old men stand around screaming at The Weather Channel, arguing systems and flows, practically placing bets. In the dream, I walk away, smiling, singing to myself.
And I woke up crying. I woke in a tangle of flannel sheets and blankets, teddy bear thrown to the floor with a tangle of paperwork.
I woke up as I have woken, for weeks, months, years - alone.
I planted a garden yesterday.
Rainbow dahlias; I have my reasons.
You bury a thing and wait;
you cross your fingers. My neighbor's
cat, a tabby, poked her nose beneath the fence between us. You place your faith in water.
You place your faith in the sun.
Last night I dreamed about television, I dreamed about
God in monsters, I dreamed I grew long golden hair. I dreamed of
severed heads.
Sex dreams and advertising. iii.Three teenagers walk in front of me. I hold the body of another one in my hand, and it shrinks, like a mummy. The house burns down around us. We are not so smart: We have killed killers, become them. The dead, shrinking teenager's head lolls around.
ii.The newspaper is two dimensions, and I want three. The words are from too far away, and my blush is a mystery to everyone around me. Sentiment filtered through lyrics filtered through personal ad: filters, filters, fragments. I can't get enough, and I never do.
i.I can't get into the car on the train with my reserved seat; the entrance shrinks. I stand on a smoking car, all Spanish language magazines and old men screaming at the TV. As long as the weather sit and talk about old men, I sing, but I continue to wander, locked out, homeless, broken, alone.
I woke up crying, in a tangle of flannel sheets, alone.