In the Livingroom

there's tension and

we won't acknowledge

your discovery of our attempt

to thwart your murder.

we sit on couches

acting civilized the way

sitcom families do

and wait for you to leave.

you are cruel

you are murderous

but we know you are strong

and we know you are clever.

i know you wonder how or

why we are still here

but these questions you cannot ask

and you linger in the dense air.

why have you come here

and why do you care -

you do not know us deeply

nor do you try to know.

so we stand and watch

and listen to the thick silence

that tells us we have failed

while we wait for redemption.

wednesday morning's dream

I'm standing in our apartment, a high-rise, and we live on the 8th floor or so, fairly high up. We have a large open space that has little furniture in it, and there are large wall-sized windows that look out over the city. I'm standing looking out the windows, across the river that runs near us and the buildings across the river. Matt is standing with his back to the windows and talking to me. He's telling me about something important to him, but I can't stop looking out the window.

As I look across at the highrises, a dark orange octopus-like monster begins climbing and sliming its way overtop the buildings, toward the river, toward us. I yell and tell Matt to look at the monster, it's coming this way. He turns, looks out the window, and tells me that there is no monster: I'm dreaming. I stop and look again, and I still see it. He again tells me that I'm dreaming- there is no monster- so I look again. This time, I can see one of the dark orange tentacles up close, and I see that it seems to be made of crocheted yarn- unusual for a monster. I note that this is not normal, and try to listen to Matt who is still talking. Suddenly I see the tentacle's shadow inch into the river, and I begin to scream that the monster is in the river.

Matt looks me in the eyes and says, There is no river. I begin to cry so hard, and I say that yes there is a river, and he looks at me and says No, the river is made of soup. I look back at the river, and I see that he's right; it's made of soup and I can see floating vegetables in it.

I feel somewhat disillusioned but encouraged that Matt seems to understand that I see things, and then I wake up in my dream. A woman is in our apartment, a nurse or psychologist of some sort. I tell her about my dreams of the river and monster, and she replies, Oh that is an A----- dream. (It has a specific name that starts with an A, but I can't remember what it is.) I tell her that I want to meet more people who have had these types of dreams. She looks at me and says You can't. You're the only person who has ever had this kind of dream before.

I feel confused; Matt asks me if I want to go back to sleep, but I tell him No, I have to write.

-my alarm goes off in real life -the end-