Dreaming of the CBC

dreams are the great second wind of life,

as good or bad or great or terrible or ecstatic and shocking
as they can be, “always interesting”
—like, if you strugglingly wake
from a dream where you’ve been
almost involuntarily saying things
you wouldn’t want to say, and
don’t even agree with,
one can wonder, what is compelling me in this direction,
or is compelling me in the opposite direction causing this resistance?
or why does does my brain think I should be thinking about that topic?
Dreams always go laterally, if they could go directly you’d be awake at the time
proceeding there, but you are asleep, and any impulses have nowhere to go.
It’s sad that in our schedule lives
some form of humanity always insists
we wake knowing the time and
urgency of the day, almost instantly evaporating dreams
Imagine that sleep where one wakes from a vivid comprehensive dream
somewhat in awe and clumsily spend some thought recollecting the world
and time; and compare that to the alarm clock radio clicking onto cbc
at 6.33 (with the time set ahead) waking so instantly to a zapping rush
of knowledge of countless countries and in depth wondering of countless moments in lives and with all the components of the day until evening nap time
brightly written across thousands of miles of impending information
Flash! and it’s the whole ufo
i treasure the occasions of waking not
knowing, not knowing, in itself,
is the most soothing bandage,
the caress of pure earthly time

And yet I wake all intrigued with the 6,30am cbc radio news each weekday, and like it. (Then hit snooze


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