New Year, a Month Early, a Brief Catalog of Dreams

The responsible hedonist regards time. Her flukes, her slight & companion. Why press onward? She blinks, she waits. The house and its things populate the day but not the year. Fridge full of rot & guilt.

In the dream, which wasn’t a sex dream, but a companionship dream, his face was a little dirty. Just enough to suggest a boy, unawares.

There was no funeral. No set date. But there they are with dry skin and crackling parts. The anger got the best of her but the best of her wasn’t all. The best is a big gleaming wooden table. All the objects they could have left and –

The charming men in the robbery dream represented them both, I suppose. Cheery, then in cahoots, then dead.



Mail: Shifted in piles, a quick sort. You, me, him, her. Offer, threat, reminder, request. Reminder. The yard’s thawed, shows through in miniature green humps of unmown green, scattered with trash & ice. Reminder. The house a dark wooden encasement. The cats are fed and the bills kept low. A frivolous flame heats oil. In and out, the bigger envelopes stuffed for thousands. An effort at neutrality, leveling the indebted.


Mail: White envelopes, waves in ink screaming ‘cause I’m here, screaming ‘cause the car’s broken and the fridge is empty. Fast turn on a heel, warm pine smell, brown needle on dirt shaded by a few dying weeds. A post card – Santa Claus on the beach in flip flops laughing at water skis in the distance.


Catalpa & Ash

All the noises I attributed,
windows where I gawked –
I transcribed the days,
fierce as the lost.
I will keep a sky. I'll ask
& listen. What now, then, what?