1. (Untitled)


Taken-time gives itself
and history rolls on,
f'ward.

The marching of mission bells,
a tone stronger than swords.
The crushing power of words.


Servant girls in their kitchen cells.
Hopes confined to a wishing well

and I do miss them.
Fell off,
well off-
ered.



.....



2. Dream

I am in some kind of desert run down place it is probably some kind of scavanger post-bomb world and everyone is scurrying about and wearing scraps of things and taking apart broken rusted cars on the sides of roads and the sky is pure white.  I make it into one of these survival hut buildings that have popped up along the landscape sort of like big tupperware igloos that fit five to six comfortably and for some reason just as cool as anything inside.  

I am there with Collin, a junkie I used to buy methadone from and while away the nights with as a liquor store counter attendant. So he is there with his sunglasses and weird grim stare and he's showing me a strange metal box he's got and then turns on the tiny black and white survival tv that's sitting on the counter to static and I says 'man, you know there isn't any broadcast.' and he says 'look at this though' and he sets the box on top of the television and flips a switch on the strange device and the static on the tv dims in most spots to black and then exalts selected clumps of crackling white static into small groups and there on the display is a whole living starfield.  

He turns a dial on the box thoughtfully and the static reforms itself into various specific constellations, most of which I've never seen.  He turns past orion and I say hey go back and he doesn't hear me, he keeps turning the dial and I eventually stop protesting as I just watch all the glowing formations shimmer to life on the screen, each rotating slowly in space to show first it's symbolic facade and then it's true depth and dimensional character.