I’ve been lucid dream­ing poet­ry late­ly. This is unfor­tu­nate because when I try to wake up and hold on to the ful­ly formed poem long enough to get it penned, it inevitably dis­ap­pears. I had a real­ly great one last night [at least, in my dream state it felt great, dream-con­scious­ness is no judge of qual­i­ty] and by the time I awoke I could only remem­ber the word Guin­ness. The pen and paper is less than two feet from me, but the dis­tance from sleep to wak­ing is always just too long to remem­ber.