From the elevated bus stop I saw honey skylights in the roofs of suburbia rising like bubbling half-moons from the sleep of its denizens (truths exist in dreams) They were snuffed with the syrupy approach of the midnight bus (one must return to dreams) Sucking dry the lights of the city it hovered in the clean darkness (the center of the kingdom) The pollution rent, the cosmos clear (I can see the milky way from here)


Dripping in amber shine the palatial ferry was drawn by the golden statues of twin baleen whales (escaped Mysticeti from the menagerie of Neptune's submarine carousel) they rose and fell as if still slaves to the distant motion of that gargantuan amusement ride (churning through time) I drifted inside (driving in the tide) amidst an amalgam of crystal glimmer (chandeliers sconces lamps vanities globes) tinting my perception with the haziness of dream sequences found in old television soap operas ("my god, it was all a dream!" ) drunk with light, I smiled and stumbled with the gentle movements of the structure (with the architecture, furniture and affectations of an old western piano bar saloon) as if afloat on a dark sea (but the inside is dyed with liquid gold)


In the lobby a full and lustrous beard was draped on the face of a human being (a tissue symbiosis) silver with age it choreographed strained movements from its subject as if tweaking nerves from every facial follicle (each strand of hair a puppet string) in this manner, his affected casualness was peppered with the faintest of twitching muscles (flickering like bad reception on a tv screen) but the beard manifested a most glowing smile revealing teeth as sparkling as the crystal chandeliers' glass bones (and his lifeless glowing eyes) he must be dead (a testament to Grownowski's experiments)


The body, that (this was no longer a who) sat propped up in a wooden telephone booth, was dressed for cocktails and clutched the top of an erect cane with both hands (where a glass orb glowed like the sun) a twangy tune sang tinny from the old rotary phone perched above the body (although clearly the beard) the cartoonish earpiece crooning tales of a big rock candy mountain (i'm bound to stay where you sleep all day) staring directly at me, the body seemed to ignore the song as if it were an anachronism of a ghost from someone else's past (i'm headed for a land that's far away) the distinct words soon became muffled as the music seeped into the pores of the walls, enveloping us in an atmosphere of indistinct sounds (this soundly made me drowsy)


I had reserved a room in this sumptuous golden Moon ferry (or so I find without cause or effect) and the galaxy crept by my bedroom window (I simply arrived here) it's moving (into a doublewide dungeon with lake access) where a dentist's lounge rests in the dark planetarium (dialing in the dates) caressing the cloudy checkerboard marble (in alternating black and white of course) a stormy moonlit sky ripped from its frame that was hacked from its wall (inlaid in repeating purple fleur de lis) carouse in a carousel (what?) you're looking for some kind of door? (well you're not gonna find one) I have no patience when people interrupt me while I'm busy (doing nothing) hello (and...goodbye)


I will send you first (and then, you second) the hospital (do you know whose bones are on display here?) the answer is... (your bones) my bones (in the Dark Moon hotel) or at least that's what the man on the other end said (so what was it called on my side?) the Light Moon hotel? (a light bulb inside an elephant's skeleton would make the most fascinating shadows) did you know that? (asking the reclining copper spaceship to bask in the bloody sunset) is really no way to travel (these whales have it right) What? Earth? Are you still sleeping? (this is the moon) what kind of books do you burn in your library? (what kind of bodies do you burn in your seas?) there she is, shining beneath my window (of my widow's walk) the selenographic expanse


There was, in fact, some kind of door (though poorly outlined in the darkness of my bedroom) that completely detached from the wall like some emergency hatch (freely floating forward) I leave my room (to touch the gleaming surface beyond its threshold) follow the falling door (inside is just a concept, but I became outside the inside) and discover I was actually in the belly of the golden whale (that now almost grazes the lunar surface) as I land softly in its languid gravity (you can expect to see more of me in your dreams from now on) no fishbowl and yet I breathe (no space skin and yet my blood does not seethe)


That voice (going there may bring sorrow) the whales (there's something interesting about you so i'm going to follow you) they were talking (i'd like you to take your time because this place will disappear when you wake up) in strangely pitched erratic pulses (a somnolent schizophrenic's cello, violin or wooden flute) over an even lower, almost imperceptible growl (don't worry though...) as I stand in front of them, their carousel churning slows to a complete stop (if you get into trouble we'll stay out of it) they detached themselves from their reins as if a feat of thought (take us to the sea...) and pulverized the vacuum of space with their monstrous bodies of solid gold (...of tranquility) and followed me without  straying (don't stop until we reach the shore)


The textbook vista (was expected) black sky and lazy gray horizon (and...unexpected) the abrasive terrain irritated my bare feet like unfamiliar sand on an alien beach (this is the center of the universe) My father in my pocket watch looks just like this roasted chalky expanse (so it is true) minuscule fragments of bone and cloudy ashes of flesh (never assume what you see and feel is real) he's home


Mom turned him into a diamond (her three carat white princess dream set in a decorative ring) I gutted my antique pocket watch of its gossamer gears and fleeting springs so he could become like time in their stead (sand in a klein bottle) but gems similar to my mother's pepper the lunar landscape (an eternal palace beneath the ashes) She told me it glowed red in the sunset (blood into stars) 

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