Soup
We take off clothes like cat’s cradle.
Now spent, I’m lying on the floor:
“You are no spoon, you’re more ladle.”
Then wrap around myself once more.
(Rachel’s dream the night of 23 March 08)
Accordian
A new talent? Accordian!
Brendan, brother plus fiancee,
all are impressed. And so we sing!
“Whistling in the Dark,” plus me.
(Rachel’s dream the night of 2/26)
Arms
Sunken eyed girl. Spare arm that sprouts
from back. We sing. Closed eyes. Sudden
vomit is in my hair. They shout.
Emergency lab shower, then.
(Rachel’s dream the night of 2/13)
Nines
I dreamed I spent my life in math.
A line of 9s, unique, each one,
and I found them. The aftermath:
awards galore for nature’s son.
(Rachel’s dream the night of 2/2)
Blueberry Joe
With Karl and a cup’a blueberry joe.
His cigarette smells like a clove.
Sarah Lawrence’s first snow.
The college kids come out in droves.
(Rachel’s dream the night of 2/3)
Bay Breezes
I’ve dreamt of sacrifice and doom:
The flaming calf. My limp body
held up by Matt’s from room to room.
Bay Breezes make me quite tipsy.
(Rachel’s dream the night of 2/2)
Tattoo
A calf, a horoscope, in flames,
tattooed upon my lonely neck.
I hide it with my hair, ashamed,
while mom and I converse of dreck.
(Rachel’s dream the night of 2/2)
Sun
My father paints a red-gold sun
on the calendar’s title, bare
April. His fingers trace the one
circle, then form another there.
(Rachel’s dream the night of 1/29)
