Triathlon

May 8, 2013 § Leave a comment

I am having increasingly regular, increasingly intense nightmares about the ocean. Mountainous, icy, hostile walls – moonlit like manganite – dominate and crush me. It is impossible to breathe, gain purchase, or save myself:  this is more or less the basis of my terror.

Sometimes in the dream I am waylaid by long channels of sand which turn into houses; cubes elongate, are room after room of strangefamiliar places where I live alone, or with others. There is a beyond, an above and an underneath, and a single note of colour struck throughout – sand. We’re all back on the sand. The manganite wall is roaring down for the burning and the rapes, an army of slick steel at the climax of an epic. Though there above, as I go under, the tarnished clouds are barely moving.

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