falling, dream hitting the ground.
Except I'm not awake. Of course.
all around me
deserted concrete slabs and broken windows
and blown-out cars
the sky is rumbling and furious in dark roiling
clouds and electrical energy
this is hate, seething, the after-math
what is this? I can't breathe very well here,
and I am feeling pinned by the atmosphere.
(pinned like lead aprons for dental work x-rays,
heavy pressing, even layer of dread and gravity
over every inch of exposed skin and limb)
the lightning, the electrical storm, it's
gorgeous in a cinematic sort of way, except
I am HERE, NOW
and I can feel it in my hair
and the smell of it in my nostrils
the smell of human decay, of dust and engine
the whipsmart black pepper ozone flatness
This is terrible
I can't find my family, here
I can hardly lift my head
There are caverns in the earth and there are
angry gods in the heavens
So much chaos here
expect to feel more pain, but somehow it's
being leeched out of me and transformed. I
start to get angry, and then it's gone. I
start to struggle, and then I immediately
forget why I am struggling.
am jealous of the world for being angry. I
cannot feel anything.
is very little color in this dream that I
can remember. Shredded posters on the remaining
wall of a low building - rusted red, like
dried blood. Yellow, indanthrone, striped
across in headlines, probably some band played
there once. There's absolutely no music now.
There's almost nothing.