wet dreams May 3, 2008

for 3 years i’ve dreamed of water.

-

safely ashore watching menacing swells develop from playful, innocuous waves. sometimes

alone, otherwise commiserating with others - always watching with a stone of dread in the

pit of my stomach. underwater, swimming, terrified, fleeing one predicament or another.

on a raft, capsizing, immersed.

-

sometimes the water is rain accumulating then flooding. sometimes i drown, sometimes

others do. often the water is contained in a pool. the pool is always the same: rectangular

surrounded by a multi-level deck. once sharks populated the pool: frenzied, slamming

their (noses? snouts? multiple rows of teeth?) at my legs that dangled over the side. often

the pool is part of a schmaltzy suite in a towering las vegas hotel. a few times the pool has

been empty and its emptiness has saddened me.

-

when i was about 5 i almost drowned and died. i was trapped, tangled underwater in a river

for minutes and, in short, my brother saved my life. literally. i haven’t associated the two

until now the but the dreams’ message has always been clear to me.

Sink. Swim. or Be Saved.