by Dan Kennedy
On a bike near Wilshire Blvd. Fall off of bike and really feels like falling. So much so that I wake up. Whoa...that was close.
- - -
I am walking into house(House = Heart, I think. I’m pretty sure I saw that in a book about dreams) and nobody has been there for a while so it is dusty and strange feeling. I walk around a corner, knowing there will be actual clowns (I think clowns = pain, if I remember correctly) in the kitchen. To my surprise Maria (= love. I’m just kind of making that one up, but I think whoever your current love is equals "Love") is also there. I immediately start singing her a song and tell her that I wrote it especially for her. The lyrics, which I wake up in real life to write down, because I’m convinced they are brilliant, are these:
Welcome to California/ like concrete hat boxes
Never mind ex lovers.
(And I keep repeating the word "Lovers" with a German accent)
Maria then tells me that she has learned to build a car from scratch and we feel good about that. Then go to a health food store in Berkley where we can fly high above the food in the aisles. Eat like birds do, swooping down to pick up berries and bulk grains.
- - -
Ex-girlfriend Kristin has formed boy band and nobody but me knows that she is not a boy. (Not really about California. Gay dream?)
[Alarm goes off]
About the author:
Dan Kennedy will hammer for grind in the east and west and then plane north of that as writer-angler-father-husband keeping strange hours compared to the others.