The dream is retro
with a lot of chrome

and indecipherable
structures
basking in two suns

I think I'm in a rocket car
maybe a bus or train

it could be I'm flying
arms akimbo
by moveable windows

and things that might be other
people in spacesuits

pass me up or cut me off
and at night ads for

toothpaste in a gleaming
silver tube

are broadcast against
an obsidian sky

are we there yet or
did I sleep through it all

Whit Howland © 2020