Featuring poems by Joel Chace, Brad Vogler, the barbarian poet of Lostport—Marc Pietrzyskowski; a collage from Steve Dalachinsky that seems a visual fit for this issue’s theme, an excerpt from Angela Hume’s SECOND STORY OF YOUR BODY; a couple of outstanding anonymous pieces—A PLAGUE UPON THE VINEYARD Hack butts and hand-written letter dated July 24, 2004; plus this, one of my three prosey contributions, Bob Dylan Dream #...
i was surprised to read both in huxley and someplace else, which i don't remember, about the rarity of lucid dreaming...now i remember the second place, a book called "personal mythology." both claim that few people have lucid dreams in which they can "consciously" act. personally, i'm somewhat skeptical about that, though when i tell people i can do this they tend to look at me as if i were insane or lying, so maybe there's some truth in it. it's rare for me in the sense that it comes and goes. however, right now it just keeps happening every single night. i think perhaps taking two pills of xanax at bedtime helps. if i don't take them, i still have the dreams, but they tend to be very very disturbing. with the xanax, they're amazing. for instance last night i found myself sitting with friends in lawn chairs configured as a horse shoe facing the neighbor's tool shed in the middle of the night. and who was at my right hand side? bob dylan. we talked about our families and how much pain they caused us. he said he coped with it all by touring, and i said i wished i could go on tour and he said i should join him. i said i had to do some things around the house first, finish up a project and he said keep in touch and join him when i can. the next thing i know i'm driving my car at a high rate of speed, but blinded by orange light with white lights whizzing by each side of me as if i were driving into traffic. i keep trying to slam on the brakes but there's no pedals on the floor. all i can do is go straight and hope for the best. when i regain my vision i'm at a university campus that's a hybrid between u.b. and a shopping mall. i can hear dylan playing at the campus stadium but have no sense of direction and can't find the place. everytime i ask somebody for directions they say follow the sound of the music. and i'm not walking, i'm running. in every direction. finally, i'm back in my car at night and pull into a motel 6 [buick 6?]. i go into one of the rooms and it's crowded with friendly strangers who all seem to know me. then dylan comes out of the bathroom and covers himself with a blanket as if playing hide and seek, laughing like crazy. we sit down together in the middle of the room, everyone circling around us, and are about to sing a duet of Tomorrow's Such A Long Time, and I wake up. i went to bed at 10 p.m. and woke up at 7:30 a.m. it's been this way almost every night for at least a month...8-10 hours of miraculous sleep with lucid dreaming. i've never felt my head so clear. also, my movement in all the dreams, disturbing and not, is generally counterclockwise and i've been having lots of discussions with the dead...like my father and a dear, dear friend kevin henning who died of cancer in 2002 who i sang-recorded an album of my poetry with, which is now, unfortunately, long gone...
i was surprised to read both in huxley and someplace else, which i don't remember, about the rarity of lucid dreaming...now i remember the second place, a book called "personal mythology." both claim that few people have lucid dreams in which they can "consciously" act. personally, i'm somewhat skeptical about that, though when i tell people i can do this they tend to look at me as if i were insane or lying, so maybe there's some truth in it. it's rare for me in the sense that it comes and goes. however, right now it just keeps happening every single night. i think perhaps taking two pills of xanax at bedtime helps. if i don't take them, i still have the dreams, but they tend to be very very disturbing. with the xanax, they're amazing. for instance last night i found myself sitting with friends in lawn chairs configured as a horse shoe facing the neighbor's tool shed in the middle of the night. and who was at my right hand side? bob dylan. we talked about our families and how much pain they caused us. he said he coped with it all by touring, and i said i wished i could go on tour and he said i should join him. i said i had to do some things around the house first, finish up a project and he said keep in touch and join him when i can. the next thing i know i'm driving my car at a high rate of speed, but blinded by orange light with white lights whizzing by each side of me as if i were driving into traffic. i keep trying to slam on the brakes but there's no pedals on the floor. all i can do is go straight and hope for the best. when i regain my vision i'm at a university campus that's a hybrid between u.b. and a shopping mall. i can hear dylan playing at the campus stadium but have no sense of direction and can't find the place. everytime i ask somebody for directions they say follow the sound of the music. and i'm not walking, i'm running. in every direction. finally, i'm back in my car at night and pull into a motel 6 [buick 6?]. i go into one of the rooms and it's crowded with friendly strangers who all seem to know me. then dylan comes out of the bathroom and covers himself with a blanket as if playing hide and seek, laughing like crazy. we sit down together in the middle of the room, everyone circling around us, and are about to sing a duet of Tomorrow's Such A Long Time, and I wake up. i went to bed at 10 p.m. and woke up at 7:30 a.m. it's been this way almost every night for at least a month...8-10 hours of miraculous sleep with lucid dreaming. i've never felt my head so clear. also, my movement in all the dreams, disturbing and not, is generally counterclockwise and i've been having lots of discussions with the dead...like my father and a dear, dear friend kevin henning who died of cancer in 2002 who i sang-recorded an album of my poetry with, which is now, unfortunately, long gone...
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