Curiosity ~ Lucidity ~ Humanity
The pageantry of memory
impales itself on night.
The fuel of dreaming dissipates
in vapory of light.
This might be an adaptive trait,
a mumbling lecturer,
and taking notes at night, in sleep?
Like serving soup in fur.
Elusive dreams, attentiveness,
the stew of dark and sleep:
like bees who dance a map to bliss,
in shadow archetype.
You get there with your shoes on wrong,
the left and right reversed;
you went onstage without your clothes
and prattled, unrehearsed.
The past is situational,
the mind is chronosphere.
A dream is palace in the woods:
a sight that you can hear.
Bio-Fragment: David Epstein's mini-van has been hit on every side. It’s twenty years old. All but two seats are gone. Tinted windows cover a rolling tool-bin. It could be taken through a car-wash windows-down and things would only get better. It’s been slept in (him), barfed in (dog, kid), and partied in (raccoons). August nights at two a.m. skunks can smell it before it arrives.