I dreamt that you rescued me from a rat
In a nameless hotel, somewhere in the center of an equally nameless town.
You and I, notwithstanding the rat, is a rare instance in itself…
I whine, frown, beg for help
In all my proximity to you that, incidentally, does not exist in any town that bears a name.
I warn you, kind reader, the details will be limited…
After all, none of this actually happened.
I dreamt it, memorized having previously imagined it with great care, i wrote –
You rescued me from a rat….
Another disappointing side note (should have really been included as preface)
The rescue was utterly unromantic
As is our entire thread of communication – connection of the digital age.
As you and I age, something remains timeless.
You are oh-so-fortunate to be able to blame bad memory,
(or to have wished your good one away.
Remember, Plato and his teacher
We are “all fighting a hard battle
Be kind to everyone you meet”)
Sometimes I ask myself if we would, in fact be friends, if I was less sentimental
And you less kind?
I hold on to our, even if coincidentally shared
Memories; cut and pasted
Out of Commercials for Kodak,
The ones that seem far more intent on fishing for tears
Than new customers.
But back to the story of the dream/imagination
Sigmund Freud awakened and paying attention;
You sojourned with your family – new wife and two girls, the oldest – your spitting image.
I was staying alone, with pages upon pages
Of stories to read and ponder…
Sitting on pillow top, on top of the world really, drunken in my happiness to attend
A treat from my subconsciousness – a literary conference.
(Didn’t I warn you about utter lack of romance?)
If only I didn’t always run towards the door…
Amongst other treats was a tidy room, ambition to write and delicious quiet…
But right when I got situated on top of a queen sized bed – a rat scurried across the floor.
Priorities shift and I teleport
(Whose subconsciousness has time for running, no matter how hurried?)
Like I said, i teleported into an endless hallway with stained red rugs
Foreboding some sequence from The Shining
(God, Please not the twins…
Between two (three?) evils, I choose deranged Jack Nicholson.)
But instead of all the gore, I found myself before you, in your quotidian calmness
As though this is just what we always do – I see a rat and appear before you breathless.
What is it now?
You ask and I detect your characteristic combination of pity and sarcasm
Peppered with feigned lack of interest
And again and again I ask myself
Would we still be friends if you were less calm, less tolerant?
Dreams don’t wait for chatty women to finish their thoughts….
You disappeared into my room and next thing I remember
Your girls are playing with the rat,
Your wife increasingly unsure about the new pet…
The rescue is complete. A friend is made. My room is set for work.
God knows, a lot of work is left.
But drunken happiness is gone
Perhaps the rat has taken it?