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The Video Wolves

Dreamed 2009/2/23; Dreamverse #41

THAT DAY

My ex-girlfriend Cheryl leaves a message. She's in town, wants to drop off stuff of mine. I don't want to talk. Midday, I go help upgrade my poet-friend Patagia's computer, so I warn my housemates Cheryl might show up.

Later, my housemate Lily tells me Cheryl did come by with some small items. "Seemed just like an excuse to talk. She tried to make it sound like you dumped her, instead of the other way round. I wasn't buying it."

And Alder, usually more forgiving, is blunt. "Cheryl came by? I don't want her in this house! I didn't even exist to her; I endured her rudeness only for your sake. You were so patient with her demands! I'm amazed you lasted as long as you did."

I hadn't realized just how much Cheryl had offended my friends.

THAT EVENING

I read Tamara Drewe by Posy Simmonds. Love affairs in a writer's colony--every heartbreak get literary vultures circling... even the participants. "O woe, O woe! Wait, I can use this..." Even the sympathetic narrators hide ugly secrets--the writer watching the husband cheat turns out to have been involved in his "accidental" death; the teen who feels so sorry she shot the picture of the lovers never told anyone her best friend was inhaling solvents (which kill her); and Tamara toying with everyone in sight. They all cut moral corners, or just let things fester...

I can't help applying it to Cheryl and me. Don't let it fester. A total break.

THAT NIGHT

I dream I'm standing barefoot on
Our driveway in the dim green dawn.
I long to nightcrawl, prowl, explore
the City scene--but my bare sole's sore.

A hound of wire rolls up. Three wheels!
I stand frozen, it's too surreal.
No motor, yet it zooms up like
a ghostly rider on a Martian trike.

A second spidery roller veers
onto our sidewalk and disappears
blindly up our street. Now more
savage wolflike robikes roar...

Headlights swivel. And a cy-
clopean videocamera eye.
Souped-up chassies on the prowl.
Silent wolfpack. Not a howl.

Stalkers peering, casting round
They hunt those blind & wiry hounds.
A wolf halts in my face. White glare.
Sends my image who knows where.

I press hands in "Namaste" prayer,
bow to eyes unseen, and...
wait for a word. Long quiet. There
in stalkerlight I stand,

Wolf-haloed til I wake.


Dream sketch by Chris Wayan: on a dark street, I freeze as robotic wheeled wolves pin me in their headlights.

"Video Wolves" song (1:57; 1.9 MB). Vocals and sax by Chris Wayan, 2013
Won't play? Plain MP3

NOTES



LISTS AND LINKS: weird dream beings - wolves - robots and AIs - TV and video - nocturnes - dream puns - breakups and exes - hunted! stalked! - Cheryl - digital art - playable dream music - the Dreamverse Project - the next Dreamverse: Retarded Stars

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