• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 12

Dream Landscape, With Teeth

I have too many dreams
Piled on my pillow, hopes
Hung up in cupboards, fears
Discarded in cellars, waiting,
In the dark, for me to blunder
Down to them. I collected dreams.
I sought them out on eBay, riffled through
Floodlit car-boot sales for Hollywood collectables.
I built up hopes from discarded yoghurt pots,
Offcuts of wood and velvet. I bred fears,
Siring nightmares with war footage on TV.
The Napalm Girl ran barefoot from giant,
Hangry shoelaces. Do I need these dreams?
I can open cupboards and be drowned
In a tidal wave of hope, or answer
Those cries for help, echoing from the cellar.
I tell myself that no-one can
Have too many dreams.
But these days, on my pillow
There’s not much room for me.