The modes of transportation have been mostly walking, running, or car/bus.  Usually, I’ve been going to meet someone, and come to a fork in the road, and/or get separated.  My travels are rarely fulfilled.  Once I crashed a semi into a stone church.  I did once find a time-travel portal (which I have found before), but did not use it.  It was protected by an alligator-type creature.

Themes of oppression still manifest as Nazi imprisonment and slavery of the American 1800s.  In both situations, I have tried to escape, but awoke before I succeeded.  A new kind of imprisonment took place recently, as I toiled away in a human refugee work camp on some alien planet.  This time, escape was very real.  We rose up through our collective power and we were allowed to board a diplomatic plane.  I don’t remember us getting off the ground, though.

Alligators have only shown themselves in a few dreams, though they have been quite fierce, even killing one of my companions.   They are usually very large and dinosaur-like.  Otherwise, the animals in my dreams are often small black canine and feline strays.   I have encountered poisonous frogs and scorpions which grow in proportion to their anger.  Once I got chased down by the neighbor’s yak, which spied my futile attempts to escape notice.  Another time, three spit-roasted pigs came back to life.

As for literature-related adventures, I have been in woodsy settings inspired by the Narnia chronicles, I entered a passionate affair with Ernest Hemingway in Spain, and witnessed Beouwolf and Grendl tossing jokes like old friends, as they spirited down a winding dirt path.

I attended an early-morning book group where we drank martinis, a literature festival on the Keene State Campus, and suffered my usual mind-blanks onstage during poetry slams.

The books that exist only in my dream world include Jan Frazier’s beautiful poetry book, decorated with victorian-style florals.  It was priced at $104, published by Marlowe & Co., or M__ & Marlowe.  Jon Barlow also self-published a small collection of picture books when he was a young boy.  His brother, my boyfriend, presented him with a scrapbook collection of them on his 18th birthday.  Titles included “I Like Being a _____ (animal?), But Not When it’s _____ Hunting Time”, and “War”, published by The Last Press.  There’s also a new-ish Garry Trudeau book I had been trying to find.

New this year: I have a few near-death occassions, including being bludgeoned in a Quidditch game, after which I snapped to lucidity.  Once, I was diagnosed with life-threatening cancer.  All this is to say that my dreams are getting scarier.

Another unexpected theme is underground tunnels or mazes.  In my dream of an impending monster attack (a repeat), we live in a warren-type settlement.  In some dreams, they are traps, but mostly they are domestic places, either long abandoned or rediscovered.

Lastly, a few nonsense quotes, names, and other quizzical things:

• “Render for me the gorgeousness of Brattleboro, as I do for you.  Come on town, Wake up!” — Bob Peed
• www._____.umcom.
• “Sunday they don’t call me / Monday they call me to school /” — lyric from a Gospel song.
• Characters names: Mee-Moon, White Star, Connie Delgado, and Bananaman