Saturday, May 16, 2009

My first night back home I dreamed the following things: funny-shaped pills, driving to many cities, a cheer/dance routine performed to a poem, a poet complaining about his sex life, a party, a mall, looking for a toilet in a salon and senseless murder.

Welcome home.

1 comment:

  1. Regarding "a cheer/dance routine performed to a poem," -- when I was 16 years old (1970-71), I read Eliot's "The Waste Land" for the first time, and finished reading it on a Friday morning in the high school auditorium, to the background music of a pep rally all around me, with cheerleaders jumping and shouting on stage.

    I've never been quite sure which of the two -- "The Waste Land" and the pep rally -- was a more apt metaphor for the other.