Booze hounds coast, fluid flow captivates the soul
Drowning out Irish merchants at the local stop & go
Chemical compounds function the rat packs slow mo
the brat pack found time tock the bottom tic-tac toe
the story goes round the rhymes continuous flow
I dreamt of Germany last night. An art show completed. A best friend and executives around a round table. They told me my fees and how I would pay even though I had never used their system. The suit to my right offers to pay; artists choice, of course, I thank him. My best friend looks at me, what about him? How does he pay? We’ll never find out the conclusion as the dream world sweeps over to Salvador, Bahia. I’m back at the hostel on the beach. It’s beautiful, the water a serene blue, the waves a full functioning mess. They offer to take me to Pelourinho cause I admit I’d never been before. We walk through a glass tunnel and I say look at that wave before it even comes and a downpour of water floods over the glass ceiling. I mention how lucky we are to be in the tunnel and not out in the tidal wave massacre. On the other side one of the girls runs at the waves, I admire her, because I secretly wish I was brave enough to do the same.
I love dreams.