In my dream, I want to leave a message for the radio broadcasters, so I arrange the pins and their hanging chains on the tiny board in front of me.

In my dream night is coming on and I put the little dog down on the crowded porch. He’ll sleep out there.

In my dream we scramble around in front of the dining commons. It’s a casual game.

In my dream I ask for the definition of the food in front of me.

In my dream I hold the bone disc,the three cloths, the watch. Other things are around me. We are chatting , quickly.

In my dream we are trying to get it settled. I have cream . I look down. I have boots.

In my dream I am still.

In my dream my tools are laid out on a table for examination. A creature, a flying furred snake no longer hovers outside: it pokes its face in the air vent, threatening us. Downstairs, they lube the waterslide with swirls of multicolored shampoo.

In my dream there is amber and a man prepares to hunt through the slanting concrete.

In my dream the pool has a boundary. I am eating barbecued meat from a wooden slab.

In my dream the green vinyl dinette chairs are stacked in interlocking patterns ,waiting to be tossed in a garbage truck. When I look at the ladybug in my hand, I can see how much the radiation has mutated it.

In my dream they both move back and forth. A courtyard.

In my dream something is linear and my body folds around it. I hear “this is what being a woman means”.

In my dream the translucent pottery is packed in wooden crates stuffed with excelsior. I walk around them over and over.

In my dream I am being held hostage and when I kill one of my captors with a knife, the solution is to hustle me out of town and into New Jersey. We search through a warehouse of abandoned restaurant equipment, crusted with food and maggots until the last two of us climb into a broken down car from the sixties. I worry about looking innocent at the toll booth.

In my dream Beyonce is showing me the customized DeLorean she purchased as a present for her mother but then kept for herself. I gently probe her about why she might have done that, and we talk about childhood feelings of lack and overcompensation. It isn’t our first conversation.

In my dream there is some tenderness in the final part of our discussion. We move outdoors into the grass.