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Dreamed 1983/10/30 by Chris Wayan

Time Creek's in flood; mud
muscles churn me down.
Joy-boulders tumble, shoulder and crumble,
Polish--to cocktail pose and clink.
Like Mexican opal smoothed to symmetry,
The fire's gone with the jags. The flood.

And so we dreams share this flat:
gas fire, elegant suits, and tea. Yet we
Were harpies once, we tore
at a foul State bent on fouler war:
Shrieking stranglehaired Furies--
at least then we could soar!
Now, respectable, the Gorgon guards the hearth.

So comes a jagged prowler. Wolf.

My heart's slid out from under me again:
Out in the dark--rappeling the rain--
On the fire escape, a scrape--
The Granny's suicide-window, open--

Newest lurker round the fire,
Green eyes mock my tasteful gray attire.

Dream: a wolf slinks in, stage left--the wolf of my adventurousness. Click to enlarge.

LISTS AND LINKS: wolves - dreaming personified - gentility vs crudity - Jungian Shadows - pacifism - capitalism's consequences - passivity and initiative - dream poems - crayon & pastel - a related dream: Bar Bet

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