Dream Poem

I’ve had a dream a few times that has a poem in it. I’m in a pre-remod­eled class­room in O’Shaugh­nessy Hall, a real­ly tiny room with an upright piano and the teacher is sit­ting at the piano and the class is grouped around her and my poem is on the music stand of the piano.

I’m sit­ting near and on the top of the desk/chair with my feet in the seat. I have a copy of the poem in front of me. The teacher starts play­ing my poem on the piano while the class reads it. The poem is thick and abrupt at the begin­ning of the lines and sort of smooths out as each one ends. I can’t quite remem­ber what it was about but it was sup­posed to be like a sheer and heavy piece of rock. The only word I can remem­ber is ‘igo­nic’ or maybe ‘igneon­ic’. It shift­ed like dream words do. After a bunch of work­shop­ping sug­ges­tions, the teach said ‘It reminds me of water.’ I was flab­ber­gast­ed and the dream ends.

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