Disembodied

Last night in my dream I was already dead. A psychologist was showing my pictures, like a Rorschart test, to help me figure out/"work through" my death, which I didn't clearly remember. Only instead of inkblots the pictures were made up of random patterns of little flowers, like lilac, not the cone shape but the scattered blossoms, and they were all red and deep blood fresh pink like the colors of a 1970's tampax ad -- you're a woman now. Graphic colors, blood colors, broken body colors. And the longer I looked at each picture the more graphic and detailed it became, and each seemed to show a body that could have been mine broken and dead--car crashes, decapitations, squatting in a bathtub with bloody thighs. Any of them could have been me.

Succoring the Monster

I was involved with a man who had two personas: he was nice but had been possessed by evil. And I loved the gentle good part of him and there and there was something I could do to banish the evil that suddenly flared into his face and only I could do it but I didn't even know what it was. And everyone kept warning him away from me and it got worse and worse, he hurt me worse and worse, but i had to wait for it to peak. And then I failed. And the evil tore me apart.

A Thing of Beauty

I was an old woman who'd been caught by this evil artist and he painted gold all over my naked old woman body, turning me into a paralyzed sculpture. But there was ground glass and poison of some kind in the paint which gave it a bizarre sparkle and ground into my flesh, glass-studded tunnels for the poison to seep through and I could feel it severing my nerves, I could feel nerve endings breaking, fraying, veins splitting, it was agony and it seemed to last weeks. Until I died.

Broken Eggs

I was sitting at dinner with family and my dad
announced that he and my mom had been thinking maybe it would
be good to put me away in a home for a while. We
went to go visit it, my parents left to go
talk to people and I sat in the waiting room with
a large bowl of these....things, part turtle/crocodile/
slug/shrimp things, very tiny. And they hatched out of things
that looked like egg/seashell/rocks. I went to go look at
them and play with them and then these other people
came up and started pulling the partially hatched ones
out of their eggrock things just for fun and leaving them
to die and it made me angry and I said something
about it being like boys killing flies and I grabbed
the bowl away from them and tried to hide all
the little creatures under piles of shiny gravel
in it but then one of the grown-up in-charge people
came and took it away from me and scooped out a
handful of the creatures and said they were for food
not toys and they were going to be the appetizers for that night’s dinner.

After the War I Wandered Off Again

It was just after a

bad divisive war, Vietnam or

some such thing. The soldiers

were returning and we were there to

see them arrive. I was waiting

with one boy who wanted me to

beat his ass but when I

undid his pants he had shit

smeared all over himself, which

didn't do much for me. I told

him to go to the bathroom and

wash himself off, and he was

like, well I was the one supposed

to beat him, I should do it. I

got mad and walked away to

where a woman was selling incredibly

bad cheap cigarettes to the soldiers

as they deplaned and decided it was not one of capitalism’s shining moments, so I started offering them one of my cigarettes, but all I had was menthols so they kept grumbling plus the woman selling them got mad at me so I just wandered off again.