This morning I dreamed of connecting something not sure what two wires, two bodies, two heads, seats, something. My two best friends in a car with me driving through a parking lot, in front of us a vast green and yellow play ground. Children were playing and screaming, the playground was attached to a school. C almost parked in a handicap spot, the closest spot there was, but the paint on the ground was faint – you can’t park here, we said. So she pulled through the spot onto the grass and rounded a few cars and found another one. I got a sense in the car of having found my real father and having sent him a letter and knowing he received it and knowing I’d never hear from him. But this was strange because I know where my father is and he knows where I am and we know. But what I remember in the dream is the feeling of forward, watching the playground, feeling stronger – the knowledge of the letter back, tucked back in my head and my memory. I had so much else to do.
*
The neighbor children are already up and playing horseshoes. The clank echoes through our windows, the fan still blowing from last night, we never turned it off and now instead of fireworks booming in the background, the boys undeveloped howls pass the sparrows popping on the garage roof, the squirrel determined to open the hanging feeder – STOP BITING IT – the rain’s remanence on the bushes, empty coke cans, the dishes coated with food and fat and me writing instead of doing any of it.
Leave a Reply