Halls of Love
In my dream -
after he came to my bed, twice,
in his surprising, urgent interest,
there are four there
rolling together in the stairwell
then five
then six
then me
and another walks up.
We go to a room next door, visible to all.
Soon, as I look back to the rumpled bed,
I have to admit, I didn't know how easy it
was, how common, to live like this and then
another stranger, in the doorway of another room,
dressed with a tie and a microphone,
asks me to come in
and just look at all the money
all the money things
watches and jewelry,
an art piece: a poorly-made ceramic heart
set on a background of cash
spread loosely in giant denominations
and he asks me how I feel.
I feel nothing. I think some of it's fake
that giant diamond, - giant - with gold flecks,
just silly - and I go down the hall
where there are vast rooms of people
dressed up as fairy tale characters
with the women's breasts exposed
here and there.
Across from them is another stage.
"Imagine" blasts from speakers.
The audience is animated and one hands me
a tomato to throw at a flat metal sculpture they turn to face -
silhouettes of immigrants getting off a boat.
"Imagine all the people
sharing all the world" crackles from the speakers
and the partiers go wild and throw all they have.
I am glad I don't, can't.
I stand there, stunned.
I am still amazed he wanted me like that.
Twice.
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