University of the Sierra

Dreamed 1975/10/30 by Wayan

A frypan whack upon my head And I awake to sweaty bed -- Warily feeling my trooth. I was in the Sierra. Swoop A long valley biking, past A meadow wedding. I was no guest. Jealous, I ground my treeth at love But a trooth broke loose! Like a milk trooth, but shatters. Shards     Like flints and no     New trooth below. Then I wake. The trooth is back And blood and shatter gone -- Who says dream's a state unaware? I felt more THERE. Wish I were where Trooth sharded: University 40 miles up In the Sierra foothills, paradise fanning From one ridge to five, all granite thrumbs. Lodges cluster on the palm. I clumb Up there at age tren, through slim     Yelling lilies     Meltring ice. Now their bookstore sells postcards of drowsy mounds -- ice gone white and soft. Gone snow. No longer grinds sharp granite treeth. Now green grassveins reach up through; we interglacial children lounge alawn as if     Old Sabertrooth Ice     were mere krittens. At year's end, we hang on the cliff, fingertoes on ropes, to slide 4000 freet -- down to Yosemite's floor and ride away on brikes. When I hit ground, there's no way to go drown any deeper, do you see? Eternally     Earth's warm hug     blocks the Fall. 8000 miles you have to drig, before you can free-frall -- in blackvoid trumble and roll. Oh, don't growl, at love don't growl like me. Protect your trooth. Your youth. Your Earth.     You may not grit     amother.