June 05, 2009

Dream Clips: bus breast, zoo swim, plate tectonics, undersea flight

Naked, I’m the sole rider on a bus driven by an old girlfriend of mine. As we talk, the bus becomes a giant breast, and I settle in comfortably.


I’m the only one who knows that the zoo animals are threatened by terrorism. Sensing the danger, I sneak into the locker room so I can stay in the zoo swimming pool overnight, when it’s closed, and protect the aquatic animals. But the security guards think I’m the terrorist, and I have to evade them.


I’m supposed to fill out a form for my kids’ school, stating our past and present locations, but I can’t because in the time we’ve moved, the continents have shifted.


I’m walking and leaping in an underwater landscape: meadows, gullies, mazelike hedges of sea fronds which I swim through and over. Just when I get clear of the vegetation, I come upon a building-size battleship-gray fish, its face all lumps and bumps and swollen lips and steel whiskers, waiting to attack me. I leap upward and fly through the water as the fish chases me over a Western prairie landscape of purple flowers and rugged valleys. Racing easily, I stay a body’s-length ahead of the horrendous fish, teasing it, and whenever its jaws snap too close I surge just far enough ahead to get out of harm’s way. It’s the pure joy of risk.