Ruth Benedict and Margaret Mead Talk About Dreams  

Sometimes I am crushed
by a piano playing
‘The cat walked across me’
but most times
when I dream of dying,
I fall from a great height
in a cliffside execution
clawing at grass while colours
merge to white.

There’s another dream, too,
the ‘What if this tunnel is all there is?’ dream.
Somehow mathematically,
it’s an inside without an outside
And we’re stuck inside a tubular surface.

She told me this beneath
the cherry blossom
when resurrection
is the sex of sound
and ampersands spawn
pink lightness.

There are moments we live fully,
hair on fire with the fullness.
All the silver and gold
hidden in the base dust of the world
is visible and we’re crying

let’s go Tokyo
play Pachinko
til we win

til our eyes drop out
from watching silver balls
into a cup.

Kerry Priest




This entry was posted on in homepage and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.