Night and day

Each lover has some theory of his own
About the difference between the ache
Of being with his love, and being alone:

W H Auden, from Are You There?

So sleep the other night was deep … and scary.  The dream started with me at Hungarian immigration being denied entry into the country … because of who I am.  But I persisted and begged and the authorities said “ok” and then it’s night and I’m in the cab not knowing where I’m going, but we arrive … somewhere, the somewhere I’ll be living and the cigarette smoke is heavy, as dense as it was on the first floor of the Chicago apartment house where the Serbs lived.  Then it’s day and I’m walking on the street avoiding more dog poop than I’d seen in Mexico.  Two of my greatest fears:  heavy cigarette smoke and dog poop in the same dream.

Szent Bálintröl


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