The Dream

One night I killed someone

in a dream, but in the dream

I didn't take it seriously--

it was an accident, I could explain--

until I saw in my dream-mother's eyes

that everyone would leave me

and what's more, despise me.

Everyone, you see. Everyone.

No one would see my side.

All we ever have from humans, anyway,

is first impressions, fleeting admiration,

a fragile reputation, opinions based on

blessedly limited knowledge of us.

Once those are lost, no value remains

except to give ourselves away:

a martyrdom of humanistic altruism;

but even that, I knew, would be

unwanted from a murderer.

Listen: you think some people love you,

but there is always some evil you could do

to ruin their love--irreparably, forever.

Human relationship is a tragic wisp of smoke.

I learned all this in a dream and woke

in a cold sweat, gut-clenched weeping,

trying to dream-explain my way back,

desperate for a scent of mercy,

a hint of understanding, recognition.

Decades later, after everything,

my life is now quite like it was

in a dream, but in the dream,

eventually I was allowed to wake.









August 2022