61   Henry's Dream

   In my dream, Everywoman was an icon. We were at a conference on the malaria epidemic. Urban locale--refined, old European (Siberia?). We walked past the coffeeshop at 99 19th Street, around the block, past the museum at 145 10th Avenue, & entered the Birch Tree Grotto (126 Verde Triangle).

    In the corner, under a pastel postcard of Costaguana, a retired silver bell manufacturer was babbling into his bowl of mead. My colleague pointed out a petite, lynx-eyed Asian woman at the next table. "Funny thing--when we're in the field, she swims without her shirt on. I tried, you know...but she laughed me off--said (in her awkward English) 'You think you pick out for every woman pleasure cave.'"

    I saw her then, breast-stroking upstream underwater, as graceful as a yellowbacked red-ringed cormorant. Introducing myself in a mature & friendly manner, I asked whether perhaps she hailed from Thailand. "A native of Italy," she replied.

    Later I was sleeping with someone else (from the bookstore). A young Asian lad had the 2nd-best bed there (on the floor of the cramped hotel room). I put my arm across her shoulder, & she milked me like a generous nurse (before my time had come). Suddenly there came an uncanny ringing of applause--& when we got out of bed, I saw she was glistening, slim, fit as a runner. (I thought--she'll get acquainted with the Asian fellow more thoroughly later.)

    I spent the rest of my dream trying quite unsuccessfully to speak Italian with everybody, including the waiters.

Henry Gould | Island Road 62
Contents | Mudlark No. 6