Lawrence Carradini
Originally published in The Evergreen Review Issue 109 in 2004.
I am sorting out dreams that take
place in sometime when never was,
in old prop planes with cracked vinyl
seat covers lengthed like diner booths,
browned-red worn and landing in the dark
bare boned tree land with split wood fences
where I am sorting out people who never
acted or when acting, never acted
"out" or
"put on" for any-body but themself
and
then
seldom. Though, here Dad wagging, like old
bro says, I no recollection. I am sorting out
wind in my hair and no one there who does
not understand me. For I am sorting out fact
from fiction, non-plussed by it. Plus dreams
of you, naked; me holding you pressed up
against me dressed and then your making
bed next to bed on floor from sheets with
pillows thrown comforter in semi-circle I am
with.
and sorting out dreams
of
you.
