better than a yesterday

wow! i mean WHOA…
just waking from the second
freakish dream in as many
sleeps;
one with history and
mixing like dreams do…
back to doing tours but
also sort of staging from
Ocean Boulevard Bistro
in Kitty Hawk, New York City
awaking shaking but not
stirred.

it started as a party.
but there were three tours
to do, I took two
and Matt took the other,
-not “dead matt” this time but
Matt the ginger, fresh back from
his first dance with amphetamine
addiction. cute enough to kiss
that bug. and mad like he
as I took two and
left him just the one;
easy mistake, as I remember
nothing of my tours but
his background bitching,
justified, and a super guy
but I hate the boss and
can’t remember why.
then to O.B. and some
function, soiree;
musicians I knew and some
i don’t but did, I said
the dream had history
yet
made nonsense of me.
Brodnax was there and
another in glasses drink-
ing something of a craft brew
and I was serving is what
i think. Brodnax cracked
a joke on me, and waiting for
response I got none i
guess it was kind of funny
the next screen was tomorrow
and the party, blinded by
prednisone and lost from
my Holley. the kitchen looked
the same from outside like
a giant warehouse wall,
and all the people there
i knew but could not
recognize. it doubled as my
home it seems, albeit
temporary.
got home from work
to the ones in my lawn
playing volleyball for
it was their lawn and
i had just been watching ;
the house had changed
bunk beds installed where
couches and a library –she
asked ;
who did this house to me?
not me ! not me…nor me
i heard as explaining the mystery
of musicians, beers and the party
a serf beside started kissing
hers and I walked to my hungry

at the front I looked inside,
someone said “Five Bucks”
to me, to which I replied
not right now, but how much
for me and Holley? she’d be along
-she’d assured me. the grass was green
and for the moment I could see
until my eyes found blurry…
the prednisone had raped my gut
the whole woke day and
rubbing them my focus lay
yet could not settle
on one thing save an
alligator, small in size
just like one from the
prior night’s dream.

the ones with specs
asked what I’d seen, showing
empty bottle scenes and
asking what I remembered when
i’d seen him a former scene
while everyone was laughing
and rejoicing in this
thing of me. I remember
walking naked up the
stairs, towel covering
me, the front anyway
but I must admit it
didn’t hide my booty.
more laughs and sights
and party smells and slowly
i remembered why:

-i had just laid down
seven morning’s real time-
put on some meditative musique
to help as I’d had no sleep,
my neck in traction, lying
supine pillows under knees
first thought was where my
music’s gone, it’d been
two hours and i’d chose
three. damn this dream
with its history…
sleeping first time in
this room where I write
and play and sing
where my cat naps and i
don’t eat, slept head toward
street and to the east.
jolted, back in human form
i was up, alone, and still
felt draped in all that’d be
like knowing i’d forgotten
something; someone on the way
to prednisone for one more
go, I hope it doesn’t blind
today. the strangest thing-
to focus scenes but humans
not directly, while laughter theirs
and flights of stairs released
me to another day…
now funny.

i moved to here and
jerked the mouse
to bring the screen to tell
this thing; and fuzz
and white face TV scream
an error occurred-
it’s messaged me,
try again later yet no
i think, with chocolate
milk I sit and bang as
in the distance
one dog rang his
bark across from who
know’s where,
I don’t, but this is good for
me, no more;
no more there’s
and no more theirs
and no more aghast
at my nude body.
just freaky. i just heard my
front door shut, and
thank God, it’s
MY
Holley.
i leave you for my
cheery ohs and
chocolate milk;
don’t think of me.
-just another crazy dream,
wrapped between two worlds
of green
of red
of blue
and
Zen.
-my neck still kills, i’m calling in…