Vin Whitman


HYPNO GROG [a history of dreams by decade]

The 1st dream I ever remember having
                         Was of a fire in our living room
I was less than 2, but to this day
                              remember how scared
                        I was to walk through the living room
                                    that morning...

[And later I learned the flames weren’t there to dance
         but to convert us to lisping homosexual hedonism!!  It was decided my time
                     here would be a hell-chore & the fire roared & laughed] 

                                   …how it crisped the
                                 innocent sponge of my brain
                            as it devoured furniture, floor & the neighbors’ dogs


The rest of childhood was full of typical nightmares —
        Showing up unprepared for tests,
                                   naked of course
Running from bears or bullies on quickening sand —

In my teens I started dreaming what would happen in real life
Nothing big at first—
               pictures of who I’d see at school that day & what they’d be wearing
Then dreaming Reagan’s announcement that he would bomb Libya & he did
                          


The “flying dreams” began after that — you know the ones
                                                     where you flap your arms & lift off,
                                  unsteady on your spindly wings for a second, but soon
                                             a pro at soaring above your awed 
                                                   peers’ stylish hair-dos
                                          Alighting for a spell on the municipal water tower…

In my 20s I was treated to vivid, cryptic sleep novellas
                 Adapted to Hollywood’s technicolor splendor
                       w/ sharp dialogue & plot twists that would make
                                 Tarantino & King rip their scripts

Or else I dreamed of airplanes
                                  crashing….1991 me & Kashmir dancing in a field when 2 planes
                                                     intersect overhead & start to wrestle for airspace
                                                      Pinning each other down, cartwheeling into clouds
                                                           Until the explosion; then fiery debris raining down
                                                                around us….  then bodies…
After that, a plane crashed in my bed every night
                              Sometimes a sudden nosedive,
                              Sometimes more dramatic
                                            sputtering, faltering, folding wings to cockpit throat &
                                                          clutching pearls, then
                                                                                dropping
                                                                                    from
                                                                                      the 
                                                                          

                                                                                      sky

The 30s saw much editing of these epic dreams
Only snippets landing on my a.m. desk
I started dreaming I was eating things that were not food (a stapler,
                                                                                     crystals, coins.
                                                      Really munching down on them.
                                      A subconscious reflex to a clenched jaw,
                                       perhaps?)
On different nights — never in conjunction w/ the inedibles—
                                         I dreamed my teeth were falling out. First one
                            wiggle & then each tooth loosening,
                                    w/ frightening ease & delicacy,  falling into my hand
                                                  till I had a necklace worth

(I was surprised to find out many people have the loose tooth dream!)

For 40s dreamscape turned to SEARCHING…
                                   SEARCHING, SEARCHING….

                                            Big campuses, unfamiliar cities, crowded sidewalks
                               Huge hotels w/ catacomb hallways
SEARCHING for room numbers,
                                familiar faces, anything familiar really & finding only
                                                           blurry stuff
                                         What number on that room?
                                         What face on that friend?
And most frightening of all sometimes
                 I find I’ve searched my way through all this blurriness
                      to the very top of a structure 
                            that may have started as a building
           But is now made of paper clips & twist-ties & other
                             junk drawer sundries

There I stand on a matchbook plank
                                         Miles above the ground & I have to figure out
                                                how to get down w/out dying

I usually end up falling,
                    falling, falling…and staying alive in the landing
                                              turning my spine just right that it won’t snap
                                                 using the meat of my hands & hips to absorb
                                                                              the shock



The most recent dream theme? TINY ANIMALS!!

                  Pre hurricane Irma,
                            I dreamt an infestation of tiny frogs w/
                                                                   cockroach wings, such realistic
                                                   little hybrids DizzneyPixxxar should quit the game!

                   And after the hurricane, the infestation of tadpoles
                      on our patio reminded me of the dream

Last year dreamed our bunny
Was tiny as a humming bird, flying around my room       And this week
                                               darting in & out of the clover in our yard,
                     a bald eagle the size of a bumble bee!!

Vin Whitman is a former funeral director, radio host and poet living in Jasper, Indiana with his cat Pixel, his rabbit Portugal, and his human partner Tony. His chapbook True Stories of the Odd Equinox is available through Alien Buddha Press. His work has appeared in The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Crow Hollow, Peeking Cat, and Yellow Chair Review. He loves using strong images to convey certain times and events that led him to the place of strength he inhabits today.

 
 

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