In A Boardroom You SmiledThe Daydream
Missed Connections from Tucson
and i’m conjuring dinner for two;
my desire is always implied,
a falcon falconized empress;
without you my jeans are holey
“if you hold it in your mind until”
mates with memory riddle;
is Nothing sacred ?
” a smile begins to form”
( the unspeakable answer ) ,
illuminates in your eyes, Deer
long time ago an old scrappy King
invisible throne; squat / slept
i could only summon some bread and dignity
he didn’t want help,
Just water;
when i lived in the santa cruz river
You seek pefection? look elsewhere,
i am leaking like a charm
my flawed self, seeking the fun of
this mornings dreams; (You are beautiful!)
close to me
the irrelevance of my Irises yearn
your osh-kosh angularity; cultivated
“You are inviolate light”
the contouring warmth of together, luscious;
i’m not going back, we’re moving forward
Her Two Cents
I’ve waited almost twenty-five years to join the Neil Gaiman-Sandman party. Why it’s taken so long I’ll never know, but I’m in the thick of Dream and Destiny and Delirium and Despair and Death and Destruction and Destiny now and that’s all that matters. Currently, I’m in Worlds’ End, Volume 8. For those of you who were on-the-bead back in ’93 this series involves stories told by a motley group of stranded travelers at the Worlds’ End Free-house. The first tale, about a man who slips from his walking daydreams into the dream-world orchestrated by his city, is delicious is its portrayal of the rift between our intentionally created thoughts and the shadow-mind of the unconscious dream-state. Many people might wish for a magical moment; some might even attempt to transcend the delicate bubble of their dreams. When the unreal manifests itself as the real, what do you do? What would you do? What would I do? The jump has its allure, but as the stories show us, there’s so much more below the surface.
