Dreams and Things

I am in a photographer's art studio. It is a loft with high ceilings and walls made of brick. The studio is well lit. A tall beautiful woman in her late thirties or early forties is there. She carries her beauty with elegance. My brother is on the opposite side of her from me although he does not look like my brother. I am attracted to her but not in a sexual way. I am stunned as I look upon her. We are in the kitchen of a manor made of brick. In the kitchen is an old-fashioned brick stove for baking bread. My father is there but he is a vague figure. Several men younger then me are there, presumably my cousins, and some old men that I think are related to me. My mother is there, too, and she is the elegant woman from the studio. She is quiet in a respectable way as she serves the men who are now in another room cheese.  I realize that I am hungry and go to the refrigerator. The cheese drawer contains only an old and moldy wedge of dry cheese, perhaps Parmesan or...

It is late morning and I am hungry. I decide to go into an Ethiopian restaurant in Hayes Valley for breakfast. I am dubious about getting an Ethiopian breakfast and curious about what I will end up with. As I enter I notice a bar, length-wise in front of me. To the left are tables at which people in groups of two and three are sitting. The tables are wood and look a little worn. Everybody is talking so that there is the high, indistinguishable hum, of conversations. The place is congenial. The restaurant has outdoor seating to the right of me. I decide to go out because there are no free tables to the left. The outdoor seating is shielded from direct sunlight by a corrugated plastic roof. This area is also crowded--There are no free tables. I notice a table close to me that seats four people. Sitting at it is a single young woman. She is 20 years younger than me and I am fifty five years old. She is attractive and despite her age looks closer to thirty. She has aub...

I am working with a young woman preparing for a parade/protest march in some liberal Arab state. We are in a very ornate hall covered from floor to ceiling (and including the ceiling) with designs and the words of the Prophet in stylized letters as if they came out of some sumptuous Koran or the Arabian Nights. The palace smells lightly of teak with which it is made. The sultan is robed in a white flowing robes and wears the headdress common to Arabs who live in the dessert or the (I think) Arab Emirates. A light breeze cools the room to just the right comfort for the young woman and I standing on marble tiles. She explains the details of the upcoming march. She tells me that it is a protest against the regime but just within the tolerance of the ruler of the country. She insists that I join the march despite the fact that I am only a tourist in this land. I reluctantly agree. I revel in the beautiful land tailored with deep fjords covered with lush greenery. It occurs ...

I am in my apartment which I do not recognize. It looks vaguely like a condominium Janis and I had considered buying at one time. It is dark outside. My brother is there and says that he wants to go to Dolores park to talk to people. So Eva and I decide to walk to Dolores park to let our dog run. I can't see the dog. I am a bit apprehensive about all of this. Eva and I have a teeny spat along the way. Eva insists that we should have driven but I insist that the park is within walking distance. We go on a bit until we reach Church street when I point out that we are already there. My brother is there in a long sleeved shirt and his jockey briefs underwear. His garb seems to alter between this and him wearing a loose pair of pants. There are people at the park. A small group at the dog run area and a larger group at the entrance near the 18th street stairs. The lights seem to alternately go on and off. This worries me. But I remind myself t...

A taxicab ride in San Francisco is fast and furious. Rolling stops at intersections and then     your head-banging backwards when the cab accelerates onward. Heart-stopping while speeding through yellow lights. Eyes glued to the road ahead in dread.  But it gets you there and fast. Tip as you see fit. I always put on my seat belt     if there's one in the back and it isn't broken. Yaffa never fastens hers. Unfathomable. After all, what will happen to her     when the taxicab inevitably crashes     spinning out of control as we tumble past Alamo square? Taxicab drivers are usually quiet     but sometimes chatty     about the weather, sports and sometimes politics. I always agree with the driver. I don't want uncomfortable differences     to divert his attention from the road. I took a taxicab from downtown to my home in the Castro. For forty years this ...

I am at at a riverside lodge. It is an old  rustic place constructed of logs and old and musty slats of redwood nestled among giant redwood trees. It has an air of familiarity - many guests have stayed there during the late summer months. But now it is late spring. The air is comfortably warm and the staff have time to pursue their hobbies and, occasionally, trysts. My job is unclear but that does not matter to me. I am instead fascinated by the wide calm river that runs next to the resort. The river is separated from the resort by banks of stone. The stones are jagged but with round edges. A person can comfortably scramble among them without fear of injury unless they decide to jump -the rock ledges are steep. I have a route through them which leads to my own secret place beside the river. The river is dark brown/green. It s not possible to see inside it. The river is calm with a very very slight current flowing to ...

I continue to be infatuated by Janis, my third and latest wife who I divorced in 2005. It was a messy and hateful separation. I am now in a loving relationship with Eva  with whom I am engaged. I don't even know anymore where these bizarre dreams come from and why they continue. I am with Janis in a room at my sister-in-law's house at night. We are in (I think) the guest room but it might be another. We make passionate love like always but Janis doesn't want to watch porn, an oddity because she always did like it. Our lovemaking is the sort of insane crazy that I haven't yet experienced since we broke up. We are in the kitchen. My sister-in-law's bar is open (rather than closed) in a way that allows people to sit at it. My landlord Martin, and his wife show up, the people I work with. The actual apartment's owner (Aaron) comes in behind them. We exchange greetings and there are hugs all around. They embrace Janis, too, although they know we are divorced. ...