A Devil Dream

I was tied with my arms behind my back and my face and body tied to a steel loop on the bottom of a bath tub that was filling up. The devil was watching me as the water rose to the level of my nose--and then I was submerged. The hotel was upside down in a sky scraper flying downwards towards hell. The sky was a crimson red, and the clouds were bright orange. As my body died, my mind's eye was transported and it saw the palacial great room of the hotel and cheribum unfurling long red tapestries from the walls. The floor of the hotel, which according to its topsey-turvey orientation, was now the ceiling, transformed from a checkered marble to the rough pixils of a brighter blue-grey cloud-scape at sunrise, which was interesting to see in contrast to the dusk-hued light bathing me from the sides. I swam upward; slowly corquescrewing through the cherubs' gossamer satin tapestries, that flowed, as if in the water drowing me. As rose petals fell upwards an intense feeling of peace and warmth took hold, and the light from the ceiling shattered the pixilated facade and then I was alone in white clouds, the bass of unseen trumpets buzzing in my head.

2 dreams

I stared down at her. She was prettier than when she played in the movies, and she had makeup on that was like a spectacle; white face, hair white on one side and blue on the other side of where the hair parted in the middle. She was reading a worn copy of Rolling Stone as she sat on the basketball court floor. She told the balding, pug-like Chinese man behind me that she wanted to have the magazine. After indicating she’d have to pay for it, I pulled out my wallet and gave the man five dollars, folded, waiving off the change.
When the business there concluded, we walked towards my house together. After confessing I knew her from the movies, I looked at her lips. One of the groupie hipsters that constituted her entourage walked slightly behind us as we walked down the sidewalks and greenbelts. What was he here for? Was he her boyfriend? I chose to ignore him, up until the point he directed us to his van where the starlet and I consumed one other, sweetly. The orange color hue made everything a perfect yellow and warm-like a life inside egg-yolk or sunlight suspended in honey.
...
Gunshots in the desolate city’s train depot near the seaside. The area had been rusting for quite some time. Abandoned cars provided excellent targets for my new handgun. The gun itself is intricately designed, with many parts that locked onto it and make it longer. Before handing it to my friend I turned on the safety, which made the gun limp; it drooped until it was like pasta in his hands--Turning off the safety, it became erect again. The thuds of bullets hit like clods of dirt against rusted doors and side-view mirrors.

Savage Wedding

So I sat in honored place beside my family at round table during a certain wedding ceremony. A native american man approached our table and greeted my mother with kindness, as she was across the table from him and the two could not reach out to one another without a break in form. As thoughts of artifice and propriety brought a smile to my face, I reached out and shook the blocky, be-charmed hand at the end of the indian's half extended arm. He wasn't looking at me, and I hate being the attendant and not the rightful subject of introduction. "After all, I'm not a pet anymore", was the mantra which won out these days, despite the awkward counter-expectations built up in my mother mind's; to be carried on sweetly unto her end.
A side glance from the man revealed he had not expected my hand. As if pantomiming, he recoiled animatedly, then added insults in his native tongue. I stood up and punched the man square in the face.

Golden Roof

I watched a time-elapse video of a family remaking a roof from its original wooden state into a golden one. They took each wood-shingle and replaced it with a gold one. Finally they created a shining cross to place at the top of an improvised golden steeple. On the ground around the new church I was charged with pouring fresh water to boil out toad-eyes which peered out through cracks on the ground and shot out poison gas at passersby.

In my backyard I remembered that I often dreamed of spiders as, this time, I dreamed of killing spiders with bug spray--shooting it into their web cushions in brush and tree-poles, as big tarantula monsters hopped between pine-tops