a friend came over
and we talked about a fishing trip--
that night
I dreamed we were there
floating in a canoe
through dark forest

near a bend in the river
we passed a perfect stretch
for a trotline
and looking for a campsite
found a clean well-lighted office
with flint arrowheads
(my own inverse retrieval cue)
lying on the carpet

in the waking world
there is division amid such places
walls and doors
time and space--
but here they merge
into the amorphous surface
of a Klein bottle
or Möbius strip
symbiotic right and wrong
coexisting unnoticed
like Schrödinger's cat

in India such contradictions
are perfectly acceptable
with equal certainty
a thing can be both real and unreal
like the sound of that tree
falling in the woods
or the sound of sewing machines
humming through Calcutta streets
because Elias Howe
dreamed he was thrown into a pot
to boil alive--
natives closing in
and in the tip
of each of their spears
one small hole--
in this majjhimā patipadā
between life and death
there is refuge
for on a grey morning in Berne
Albert Einstein woke--
a storm having loosed in his mind
and with it
God's thoughts--
the motif for the universe

across the sea
Thomas Edison lay on a sofa
holding several ball-bearings
arm outstretched over a metal pan--
when he fell into hypnagogic sleep
they would drop and wake him
and he would get up
and work
for it was in this condition
that his mind functioned best
here too
Kekulé discovered
the benzene ring
watching the image of a serpent
bite its tail--
in a similar state
where the theory of evolution
came to Alfred Russell Wallace

James Dickey said these dreams
were a second life--
a fountain from which flowed
the best poetry

and there is utopia here
the term meaning both 'good place'
and 'nowhere'--
nonexistent are pollution
and ignorance
but often when I visit
I'm apart from a small group of friends
I see them ahead of me
and they vary from dream to dream
but never am I cast out
just behind
a shepherd on some errand or duty
it is a dream of being alone
a dream of loneliness--
then I find the arrowheads
and I get up and work

Sleep - David R Cravens
The Brain - Omar ZahZah
        He began taking it out
when he came home
from work.
        He kept it
        in the medicine cabinet.
        One day
        he woke up late and
        forgot it.
        His work
        seemed to improve.
        Realizing he needed it
        less and less,
        he started going
        whole weeks
        without using it.
        His Boss,
        noticing the change,
        began calling him
        into his office
        to commend him
        more and more,
        an occurrence formerly reserved
        for the Assistant Director.
        He later learned
        his Boss
kept his heart
        in a jar
on his nightstand,
and the Assistant Director
kept his eyes
in a large mint tin
in his coat pocket.
And every afternoon
scores of employees
stood out in front
of the Boss's office
looking in
through the glass doors
at these chosen three
and wondered
what it was
they were lacking.