Posted by: normanlgreen | March 1, 2012

Dream, February 29, 2012

Dream, home, 6:19 am

Scanner covered in wheat paste — streaked with white crust inside and out. Pretend patience as I clean it in the presence of a customer who made the mess.

Feel compelled to attend and assist at a friend’s impromptu concert. String instrument sliding out of tune. When I try to adjust the tuning pegs as he plays, he shrugs me off then abandons the stage. I follow , applauding, hoping to get the audience to join in.  Only one or two people clap for a few half-hearted beats.

In the lobby, tables laid with a huge banquet — yellow soup and hundreds of loaves of craft breads. Out in the parking lot improvised using straw thrown on a muddy on a field – a man backs into the open door of a family’s car.

I return to the dining room of a fast food restaurant, recalling that I confused people by flying through on my last visit.  This time I walk rather than float down the three tiled steps to the main floor.  To my right, a child has built a mechanical sculpture with a tin foil astronaut twirling near the ceiling.   She has proudly set it on her table, after having displayed it during an evening time school function.

I return to my house on ninth street in Waco. Immediately upon entering, I turn to look out the window and see a stranger pacing on the sidewalk out front. I go out to ask his needs. He explains that he must come in to talk with me. He dances painfully from one foot to another explaining ( in a faint Dublin accent) that some years ago he burnt his feet in that very house, as he had come on a matter of some ten or fifteen dollars. I see that he has taken my old Gibson hollow-body and has set it on edge on the neighbors’ walkway. The concrete will scrape its finish. I pull my keys out of my pocket, grab him by the shirt collar and press the sharp points of keys into his trachea.


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