Tag Archives: dreams


then we’re back at the bar, this little shanty place in the brown below and shade of a steel bridge, open, food stalls, picnic benches, but quiet or even private
this big guy I know walks in ahead and is throwing his weight around again, he pulls this pistol out from the usual place and starts waving it
before long he’s shooting me a few times like he does, a few bullets in the arms, especially the shoulders, some go through and some stay, I stand and take it for a while but it’s not just me, and I’m angry but it’s not just me, this other man who came in with us, he makes it bigger than just me and big bull, I walk up to the bull and take his gun, point it into his forehead and whatever snarls he had becomes this calm visage, he smiles, there’s an acceptance, a desire for death, a kind of only mildly suppressed self knowledge here, almost stripped bare, the fact of a gun barrel in the folds on your forehead, at least, that’s how it all seems
I misfire
He takes the gun back and points it at me, I guess sad, I guess angry, I guess usual
Suddenly I have to decide whether to make my peace, and I suppose I have to, if death is coming I think I can’t panic and piss myself and shit and scream out, no, I think I have to be calm and look down the barrel and look down the eyes so we both know the score, and everything that dies can die peacefully
He misfires
The gun is empty.

A Red Handkerchief on Grass

i’m talking to you on the phone with the messages, you’re sending me them and I’m sleepy and in the bed and lying next to her and the sheets are up in me, the sun is coming through yellowy; outside the bed is cold inside the bed is warm
you’re talking in my inner ear with your messages and I’m sending you back, the phone is down and on the floor and in my inner eye you’re walking along this sunny afternoon street to me, you’re in her body and I know and you look at me knowingly but you don’t say why. We know it.
you walk over to me on the grass talking normally, her voice not like her, not unlike you, you sit down next to me talking the same message, there is a tree and a house, I don’t register what you’re saying but it is normal and alright
I want to say I can’t look into her eyes with you in them, look a little too long, and see the mouth, nose, brows and in those features your face looking back, I want you to know I went to sleep wet and this is me dreaming
you might be saying, I might be hearing
I’m reaching over to press down on the clit you’re wearing, soft cotton on top and pushing and you moaning, and warm overhanging in the sun, I mount you, feeding you thru her, in the grass, in the heat
in a sharp movement you get up and back into your body, all in one swift motion but not quite, like a few frames of film were missing, and you walk off, and I feel you; behind you and next to me where we shared blood and semen, a red handkerchief lying flat out as if to absorb stains
I wake up wet and look over at her, sleeping in the white sheets in the yellow light, my hair is in my eyes, I reach for the phone and drop it again, I turn over and stretch out on the mattress and on the pillows, and I rub myself in the mattress, and it hurts in my heart but tenderly and I remember how you sometimes wish you are a woman too