it’s some weird dream that i know is a dream and
the dream knows that i know that it’s a dream so
the dream is like falling and it’s like saying to myself
that the people chanting my name on an irish river
are all little dandelion wishes i’ve blown into the
empty fields. i know i will wake up sweaty because
i always sweat when i dream because the dream
knows that it is a dream and makes it a nightmare and
then i am in the irish university and i am entirely
lost, going in a circle through every exit and barefoot
in the bathroom and i am thinking that the dream
is cruel and i am noticing that this is a moment in
which i am not dreaming anymore if i am in control
because i am dreaming that i am not in control and
that i am all circumstance because that is the wishbone
i asked for and i am happy in the current of the dream.