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Stompers

Dreamed 2013/8/24 by Wayan

THAT DAY

I go see a sampler of the plays in this year's San Francisco Fringe Festival. Crowded--just squeak in. Run into my friend Cameron, who's starred here other years. "Lately I've been forced to work dayjobs, but I have a short piece in the works." The lights dim...

Driven Bananas: Girl with a driving phobia inherits a classic car... develops too slowly though.
With Held: Artist confesses to his best friend "Your girlfriend and I fucked." Disastrous. Honesty is NOT always best. ☆ ☆
StormStressLenz. scenes from Sturm und Drang plays (late 1700s). Insane, grotesque--unintentionally hilarious. ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Eating Pasta Off the Floor: Italian mom happily, obliviously tries to marry off her daughter in Safeway. Sick--and funny. ☆ ☆ ☆
52 Letters: Grimly relentless one-note protest that girls are kidnapped, raped, and pimped out. Uh... kidnapped? And no one notices?
Genie and Audrey's Dream Show: One plays accordion, one tumbles. They're cute. But dreamless. They promised dreams. ☆ ☆
Triskaidekaphobia: Thirteen Consumer Tragedies: Aren't our economic beliefs as superstitious as fearing the number 13? ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Fish Girl: A sexworker-activist plays ukelele & sings "Men are scum" in a mermaid gown. Why? Hey, it's the Fringe! ☆ ☆
THAT NIGHT
My name's Silky. Love to run. Ponytail black.
I'm on a sinuous causeway over the lake
to unholy isle. The huddled horde ahead
Watches, alarmed, but not because my track
lies near-awash; here, cunning thunderclouds
swoop and crush humans flat, if they draw
cloud-notice by straying from the crowd.
But then I'm not exactly human, am I?
I don't shift into my swifter form, a black
nightmare--but I lope with stamina and joy
from my immanent mare. Galloped a mile
or so already--just a hundred yards more
to the murmurcrowd ashore; now I can see
individual faces watching me.

Silky, a girl in red shorts and yellow tee, runs along a narrow breakwater toward an island where a crowd waits. Sketch of a dream by Wayan.
Black horse kicking angrily. I'd rather canter unattacked to shore,
to understudy these great thugs of air
on this their headquarter-isle, before
plotting to eject them--blue to black
space, their source. But if they attack,
I swear I'll kick them now to stratosphere!
Improvise, fight back! For I don't crack
under thunder. Nightmares don't crack
ever never. Don't fear the air. Fight back.
Black horse kicking angrily.
NOTES IN THE MORNING

LISTS AND LINKS: I'm Just Not Myself Today! - gender-bent dreams - dreams of Silky - sports - weird dream beings - monsters - entities of pure energy - bullying - individualism vs. conformity - courage - joy - perseverance - health advice - chronic illness
Three more transcendent running-dreams: The Everest Marathon, Runner with a Porpoise, and The Starmont Triathlon
Three more cloudlike beings: Who Ate My Lettuce?, Cloud of Glory, Vaguely in a Sick Dream
One more gigantic stomper: Godeville, or, Living with Cthulhu

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