Came to me in a dream,
The internet of the unconscious
the place
where dreamers flee.

As I lay down,
Eyelids shutter's close
deep dark night falls,
Into the interweave
we are delivered,
Into the collective unconscious
we go
coast to coast,
In synchronicity's archtype's flow
where all the
heroic demons and fears
dwell and go.

Awake?  A dream?
A Balinese on LSD.
The boundaries fall
as the currents of the interweave
take us all.

When we hear a voice
we look around
to
see if anyone hears it too
otherwise how are we
to know
if it's a dream or if it's true.

The interweave a current,
We only enter unconscious
or
is it
when we are fully being?

We don't know.

We are swept along
on the night riding songs,
Our voices sing in
colors vivid, strong,
Sparkling in the black sky
lightning of consciousness crackling
the thunder of life
echoes in our ears
ripping us asunder,
To emerge
on another side
in another way,
Not too different,
Not too the same,
Irreversibly changed.

Our hands we hold
as we plunge, plummet
into the white current in
the dark sky
broadcasted to
the tumbling
rotating
universe
the interweave
a transit to
anywhere
you might imagine,
Don't fear,
Courage is here.

The imagination
runs so wild
call it what we will,
When we make our return
from the interweave's
milky way,
All we will
really know
is
that
for those
deep dark nights
when the eyelids shutters' close
after connecting
to the interweave
I
with each other was
free.

Pay your quarters
pay your dimes
you're paying for laundromat time
slowly spinning
forgotten
by
Einstein's Theory of Relativity.

Minutes become hours
and
there are still too many hours to go.

Any math class
intense gas
organized religion
waiting for the tow truck,
the bus
in
the pouring frozen rain.

Sitting in the E.R.
with a cut finger
waiting waiting waiting.

Sitting in the hospital room
with an elderly distant relative
you hardly know,
their funeral too.

At the grandparents house
with endless repeats of Judge Judy
on the t.v.
t.v. droning monotoning on and on and on.

Any work day
perpetually two thirty or three,
in meetings with presentations
with more presentations to go,
you're trying to be productive,
but all you know
is
laundromat time
slowly spinning.

Any night of insomnia,
betrayals endless loops,
anxiety rolling through,
following you from one cigarette to another
three o'clock
four o'clock
four-twenty.

Home movies of endless barbeques
I know meaningful to you.

Pictures of people's
cats and dogs
a hundred more to go.

Eight and a half months pregnant,
kiddie soccer on a Sunday morning at 7:30,
the middle school brass band
Friday night at nine,
yes, that's me
passed out and snoring,
laundromat time
a warm blanket
has
put me under.

Anybody else's endless fascinations
say
pictures of weather,
laundromat time sets in
as the
eye lids flutter
narcolepsy sets in with all of this clutter.

So the next time
you're standing in line
and the woman in front is telling
the clerk
every detail you never wanted to know
you'll think about these poor lines
and remember
you're spinning in laundromat time
forgotten by Einstein.

In fact these poor lines
must be feeling that way too
I am going to do you a favor
and
get back to you later.

Walking along the river road
Was my friend and I
Along side in clear reflection
The Mad River gently floated by
While my friend and I
Spoke about loves
which had come and gone by.

When to my horror I did see
A child
a floating by
I dropped my back pack
And in to the river I did fly
Reaching down to grab that child
To safety, on this day, he would not drown as long as I'm around
I pulled him up and gently
I laid him on the ground.

Before we had a moment
Before a word could we say,
I saw another child
a bobbing, rushing, down fast this way
I jumped back into those frozen waters
I held her to my breast,
A sputtering
A muttering
I laid her on the grass,
There was no time to take a breath
Before another child down the river
floated my way.

I repeated my actions over and over
Went down to that river each time
Until as many children as I could gather
And lay them along side the river's
shallow shore.

Exhausted, now I stood
My friend sat on the green green grass
a crying to that noon time sun
We looked at each other in desperation's
silent hum.

One more
Two more
Three more
Four

A floating and a struggling they did come.

I didn't know what else to do

But I started running up the road
I knew the headwaters were
Up the road
Just a mile or so
or
so I thought.

In the distance I heard my friend
Calling my name in despair
Thinking that alone, I had left him there
To fight this futile battle.

To the headwaters I needed to go
To find out and stop this parade
Stop who was ever
Throwing these poor children
To the hell of the Mad River's
Watery grave.

The headwaters are just around this last bend
My friend's voice still echoes
The children's cries are sounds
Sounds I will always hear.

When I get there
I will tell you what it is
I found
I found awaiting there
Throwing all of these children down
for in this life to drown.

From the snow caps a melting,
The desert's valley floor
Through the farms
Past the city streets
To the ocean's mouth, it's final release
The Mad River flows
Taking our children as it goes.

Maybe baby
You'll come on home with me
maybe baby
our love will find its way

Love will take you
by its hand,
you'll fall full throttle
under its command
love will make you see
open up your heart to me

Maybe baby
you'll come out and play with me
maybe baby
our love will have its day

Love it rises
love it falls
a roller coaster ride
for the
heart
the mind
the body
all

Maybe baby
our love will set us free
maybe baby
we'll take a chance and see

Love it sings
love it dances
love romances
It puts you in
blazing
ecstatic trances

Maybe baby
we can find our way
maybe baby
today is our day
maybe baby
you'll come on home
with me.

Fire
fire
in the sky
burned so bright
burned so high
how was I to know
it was the end of time.

Meteor predicted on
its way
flashed incandescent
as it made its way,
shattering into a
million fragments
atmosphere burning
fires starting
nuclear winter
envious of its
power.

A lone figure
on a hill
never knew
such loneliness
as this,
took your hand
and
one last kiss.

The meteor bright
brought the end of time
rendering all of our
fears, petty jealousies
brutalities and stress
our issues
our loves
irrelevant.

If I had known this
before
freedom wouldn't
have been that painted
she-male *****
seductively calling
to me for more -
but could have been
a moment before
that meteor made
its call.

The fires have melted
the stars have
been renewed
the planet continues
its spinning around
the sun
the deepest ocean fishes
continue evolution's marching orders
while a cell phone alarm
flips on
and
the icon shows "no signal"
while beneath
the rubble a
malfunctioning relay
finally finds
that call made
hours ago
and the phone
rings and rings
beneath the
ashen snow
until the last
silence
no one is home.

Mother Earth
finally restored
to
its
silence
once again.