dreaming in bad poetry
Last night was mostly a sleepless night. I’m not sure why. Our bedroom was cool despite the ninety degree day. I did sleep for an hour or so and had a dream.
I was on a bed with several people. One of them was a mixed media artist and poet. She had a volume of poems printed on white paper and pasted into a turquoise and yellow book. I opened it and this was one of them:
i’m sorry the media got involved
it was only meant for us
you have to admit
the sign on the door did say cash only
I was a little embarrassed for her, but then a Cuban man showed up and he had a family issue and needed my help. My dog Selkie was also running around and my grandfather was on the bed too. I woke up and jotted the dream down right away. I have no idea what it means.
Why on earth am I sharing this?
Let me make up for it with some link love for the coffee drinkers and writers out there:
Here’s a mint idea.