And then? A very convincingly-real dream with ominousness of uncertain
intensity...
On 6/2/08 5:10 PM, "Janet Jackson" <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Posted too soon! When I started to read it out loud it rapidly morphed into
> the following.
>
> The space
>
>
> It's midnight in Dream city again,
> with its dark derelict house-rows,
> dubious kitchens, tables for two,
> corner bars. Where are the friends I seek?
>
> Not in that bar -- that's all folk music.
> I drop off my mother there. You'll like this, I say.
> I drop her off and walk alone
> past people who no longer scare me
> now that I've dropped her off.
>
> I walk a couple of blocks of my dream-streets
> to another bar. Setanta Sports, Guinness,
> small, low, grotty.
> My friends are there. They say hello.
> They sit and stand around the room.
> They are leaving a space for someone
> who should be there, but has been lost.
>
> I get a beer, sit by the wall. I'm next to the space.
> I listen to their talk.
> A senior man storytells, standing up,
> projecting his voice over the heads of the gathering.
> I hear him but his words don't touch me.
> I sit with my beer, quietly breathing, next to the space.
>
> In walks an old colleague of mine, someone from reality.
> He used to have curly red hair and a big horsey mouth.
> Now his hair is wispy grey and his face has shrivelled.
> But I can say his name. He stands in front of me
> and tries to guess who I am.
> But he doesn't know me without my mother.
>
> I don't tell him. He keeps asking.
> I hear him but his words don't touch me.
> I hear him but his words don't touch me.
> I sit with my beer, quietly breathing, next to the space.
>
>
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