(I had this dream years ago. I was reminded of it today)

I dreamt that it rained.
Down the city street past Kathy's door,
Along the illuminated storefronts.

There was a hum in the chilly air,
in the California Dew, I stopped.
To stand under a lamp post.

'I'm singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feeling...'

Gene Kelly, full of life and melody,
spun around the lamp post,
and kissed my cheek.

There were trim grains in the wood
that framed the streaming light
from a window early bright
which bent with a firm bristle
forms from a sweet morn.


Strokes of a strong hand,
"he's painting"
I said to the pillow.

to none, was I explaining
but he was there,
with his Modigliani oils
laying his soul bare.


Medium streaming thumb
in the mouth of palette
in cool colored thoughts
of blue-eyed mysticism,
Avocado hues and the many,
warmed robes of Saratoga.

You know that saying?
"the only person you can truly rely on
and trust is yourself"
what about when you can't trust yourself?
when your mind deceives you
when you do the unpredictable
when you shock yourself and think
am I really that person?

Does that make you
more alone than being alone?
if loneliness is a feeling of being alone
but you don't have to be alone
to feel lonely
and you can be by yourself
but not feel loneliness at all
then humour me this

If I am by myself and I feel lonely
but I don't know myself tonight
and I don't trust my own presence
I don't feel comfortable at all
in my own company
so I don't have myself to rely on
because I myself, am not myself
am I more than alone?

Am I actually nothing now?
am I here at all?
do the thoughts I'm thinking
belong to somebody else?
do I now have to search the mind
of this man that I do not know
to find clues and remnants
of the person that once filled this body?
am I lost forever?