We were driving through a tunnel -
yes, yes, a tunnel, watching
a learned someone on a tv channel
discuss how we, as a society,
could no longer do anything
without discussing it.
Later I was in a hospital
with a new mother of twins, one thriving
one not and I watched as she checked
Facebook to see whether or not the babies
had posted and her face cracked open
when she discovered one of the twins
had deleted his profile.
We all knew what that meant.
Catherine Bateson, November, 2012.
Okay, the challenge was to write up my dreams as poems every morning. So far I'm missing one morning, even though it was a very surreal dream. I'll have to try harder tomorrow - early morning gales, a computer fault and swimming at Belgrave pool got in the way.
I have no idea what I'll do with the poems I amass or whether any of them will ever work outside the dream context or whether, in fact, they work inside the dream context, but it's all quite interesting anyway!
Wake up and saunter across to the Tuesday poem blog with your first cup of coffee. Imbibe some great poems with your breakfast! Support poetry and leave a comment. We love you! Meanwhile, psychoanalytical comments welcome on this blog...