No Explanation

I know the reason now for the dream.

For some reason I wanted to go halfway

But when I got to the road

I saw it.

It was a cut straight up and down from my home

Into the valley, prostate

And straight up again through a Cut.

The gears of the car were whining

on the way down and I knew that there was no stopping or waking up or turning back so I woke up because it was what a real nightmare is which is the approach of death as a certainty.

I ought to paint a picture of my dream.

Painting pictures is a happy thing to do.

I want my nightmare to be beautiful.

Like it was driving down the Pennslyvanna Turnpike

With no margin of error in the snow down a long way when we were together and there was no past or future and it was what a trip really is.

"Dreams are dreams, ailment

And day is day.

The dream upon awaking

Slips and fades away.

Damned is the dream.

The dream you prayed would stay."