Thursday, September 1, 2011

A Dream in Which I Fail To Take my Poetry Seriously

Last night, before I went to sleep, I asked my subconscious to please allow me a dream of the the animal whom I should write about in my next Zoo stanza. Thinking tragic, majestic, poetic. Thinking Rilke.

Goldfish. That's what I dreamed about. Trying to keep two goldfish alive in my bra - bowls and Tupperware being unavailable, apparently - by pouring water into it.  Pleasingly, I not only managed to keep the fish alive; one of them even gave birth to a little goldfish. Touching.

Ape, eagle...goldfish ? I don't think so.


  1. Or a dream in which you succeed in having fun with poetry.
    May be about the life giving goodness of what is in your bra.

  2. Fish live in the subconscious. What a fabulous dream. Piscean, moons, tides, breasts.
    Magnificent! Go with it!