Pixelated Neon

There's a place that blends churches and workplaces I've been to. Former coworkers are there. People from the portland art scene. The lights are off and there is neon everywhere. In the piping of people's clothes and strewn along the walls. I jut through time and spaces at this party. It becomes digital. The walls and textures. I float by coworkers and feel like I'm on the way to Asia. I'm chasing my friend, a gallery owner in town. He wears lots of makeup and leather jacket. He's a blend of himself and an art critic. His girlfriend is androgynous and from the side looks like David Bowie. I run after Michael and Beckett, in and out of rooms, time and space. I feel sadness about them running, but know I'll find them. There is a door. I walk inside maybe alone, maybe with Beckett and Michael and a few others from this dream. We lie on our backs and watch the dome above us, like an iMax movie, but pixelated like the original super Mario brothers. It's Homer Simpson. 

Serious Gypsies

We are gypsies. Or it feels that way inside tents, in a city that feels a little post-apocalyptic. My friends from years ago are there, one wants to sleep next to me in my tent. We sleep deeply. I am warm and cozy next to her. Morning comes and my other friend opens the tent door. She is ten years older than she was the last time I saw her. I am still a little in love with her and care too much about what she thinks of me, of my tent and the way I keep it, about the things I say, which to me are funny, but to her seem juvenile. She is serious, I'm shocked by how serious she is.  

Crawdaddies in the toilet

I'm at my childhood friend's house and there are 4 families staying there. I open the toilet seat and notice bugs and large crawdaddies spilling over the edge with dirty toilet water.  

A friend tells me he sings my songs all the time. Like a movie I see him doing this in pieces. In front of a campfire, in Times Square, at the beach. But they're not my songs. 

I'm in Fraser in my pink bedroom from when I was ten. The second boyfriend of Hanna's from girls is with me. We are in our 20's and looking at my baby pictures in old albums. I start to kiss him and he gets an erection. He asks me to finger his ass. I do this. I'm getting aroused. I notice his asshole is large and wonder what he puts inside it. My father walks into the room. We stop immediately. He pretends he didn't see anything at all and I'm glad he doesn't mention it. 

Hotel Office Whispers

Our office is inside a hotel room. My coworkers desks are backlit by windows. My friend C walks into the room and we go over some work I'm doing for her over large cellphones. The kind with long antenna from Miami vice. She sits next to me, but we talk on phones. I'm frustrated by changes she's made and don't look her in the eyes. We hang up our phones and stand. I introduce my friend to coworkers, but suddenly forget one of their names. I know it's two syllables. I ask her to tell me what it is, but she doesn't. I feel guilty about forgetting her name. They whisper behind my back.