Frank Prem

scent of a dream

 

in the hills

above my head

they are pumping dreams

 

drawing them

up

from deep reservoirs

and resting places

where they have waited

a long time

patiently

for their dreamer

 

in the hills above my head

the pumps

are filling pipes

with ready dreams

 

the tankers

bloating up

slowly

while their drivers

stay alert

 

no sleeping

 

they are

wide awake

 

wired awake

 

as the pumps

draw dreams

push dreams

squeeze dreams

 

fill the tanker trucks

with deep and ready

dreams

 

on the road

outside my bedroom

the tankers drive

 

filled to their capacity

with dreams

that once filled reservoirs

and waited

for their dreamers

 

they are bound

for the city

where a dollar

buys a little imagery

 

they are bound there

to be dreamt

for a few cents

per glimmer

 

a few cents

per vision

 

for a few cents

 

that is all

 

and dreamed

once

so cheaply

they are gone

 

~