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i have been reading a dream journal
the author claims that
within her dreams
images follow one another
like they had been mounted on a wheel
turned by the viewfinder
in an image not unlike this one
she find herself floating just above the surface of water
with the sun tattooed on her forehead
three suns
(she is not a fan of science fiction)
means there must be a sequence
the journal
reads like an attempt to reconstruct a larger wheel
from fragments of smaller ones
the images that precede and follow what is remembered
are filled in from other sources
as if there is
in the end
only
one
dream
there should be motion
it should be possible
the sun on the horizon
the sun on the door
the sun on her forehead
the long triangle that connects them
drawn perpendicular to the image
her position is fixed
if she moves forward
the image dissolves
into fragments
if she moves backward
it disappears
she thinks
her journal of dreams
has been stuffed into the bottle
if she moves forward to retrieve it
the bottle grows enormous
and moves to the right
the stairs fill the horizon
she drifts up
as
the suns disappear
the sun on the horizon
the sun on the door
the sun on her forehead
the long triangle that connects them
drawn perpendicular to the image
her position is fixed
from here she dreams of other dreams
not unlike this one
in which she floats above the water
three suns
if you are not a fan of science fiction
means there must be a sequence
if there is sequence
motion should be possible
in each dream
she thinks
her journal of dreams
has been stuffed into the bottle
if she moves forward to retrieve it
the bottle grows enormous
and moves to the right
the stairs fill the horizon
she drifts up
as
the suns disappear
the sun on the horizon
the sun on the door
the sun on her forehead
the long triangle that connects them
drawn perpendicular to the image
her position is fixed
from here, in every alternate dream
she dreams other dreams
in each
she thinks
her journal of dreams
has been stuffed into the bottle
if she moves forward to retrieve it
the bottle grows enormous
and moves to the right
the stairs fill the horizon
she drifts up
as
the suns disappear
__________________
a gramophone its corrugated trumpet silver handle
spinning dog. such faithfulness it hear
it make you sick.
-kamau brathwaite
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