The Long Say

Bringing back the long-form essay before it’s too late.

Cronenberg’s Dream

Dream Essay/Sonnet/Conversation/Dissection

Matthew Gelzer

I’ve seen you three times in my dreams.  That’s to say, in the last week, I’ve seen you three times in my dreams.  And you are smiling, wearing a jacket in one of the dreams, with your hair shoulder length and bushy.  That signifies a vitality that envelops your body. 

In another dream, you wear earrings you just bought.  They’re bust of Mozart on gold chains with black paint over the eyes and mouth like a child drew house paint on them and they come with a gold clasp that rests on the bridge of your nose.

I didn’t realize it then, but when I woke up this morning and left the house and I was painting Carol and Mike’s house, I realized that when you wore the earrings and the nose clasp, it gave your face Ganesa’s shape.  Therefore, when puzzling over your question, ‘What do you think of these earrings?’ it took on a whole new meaning. 

A simple question.  One I was now afraid I would answer incorrectly.  You were talking to a girl with short curly hair, a taupe color like bone.  You are so popular. She was wearing glasses and inviting you somewhere, suggesting you could play music together.  And I was jealous, I always envied the way strangers seemed to offer up intimacy, the common sense of use, comfortable lack, where nothing’s out of balance. 

I’d seen you the night before in a comics shop and I was angry and embarrassed because Chase told you to, ‘Be careful.’ and that ‘It isn’t worth it.’ and of course she was right, but I wanted to speak with you anyway.  I told her I was sorry.  She smiled and seemed to understand, but still, the two of us, we didn’t talk.

There were people around and I was looking at books in a museum shop.  Used books under a handmade sign, cheap, but beautiful.  You ordered at McDonalds and I bought a coke for less than two dollars.  $1.87, I think. 

I was climbing.  And you were seated on the edge of a bed.  And the carpet was very flat and.  The grass was studded with flowers over crops of red, red rock. Like a car accident.  James Dean cool.  Always a hotel.   Always rocks.

Filed under: Dream Essay, Essay

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