WAKING DREAM (HYPNAGOGIC HALLUCINATION)
When you are too tired, molasses-tired,
the dream comes mock real. Things just
as you left them: TV remote sunk in the
shaggy carpet, phone kicked off its crib,
the dangling cord chewed and twisted
beyond fixing. You can’t keep your eyes
from blurry, your body from shapelessness.
A weight, heavy and amorphous, is
mounting you in waves, a shadowy thing
is covering your mouth, stealing oxygen.
There is nothing sacred or beautiful about it.
Death, as you suspected all along, is this:
a terror, breathlessness, and an awful mass
on your stomach and near your loins. A voice
is moaning, unsure if it’s your own, you
pull yourself away from yourself. Your arm
pushing the sheet straight up, a tent of white,
the chill of new air.
Location: Rumney, NH
Driving distance from Boston: About 2.5 hours
Cost: FREE
Comments
Post a Comment