backstage

i am in the middle of an experiment not of my own design, outcome uncertain with upwards of 30 children on stage. the children are not related to the experiment. but all this is besides the point.

the point is that i have no point.

but if i did have a point, it would be that as an adolescent i read a collection of Ginsberg's journals from the Fifties. since then i have - from time to time - mimicked his practice of keeping dream diaries. i woke last night at 1:26am and wrote:

"dreams formed of chocolate ice cream. waking with leg cramps and plans to do it all again. Tommy's voice in my head from hours before. retardation, gas stations and discipline. i will not text her. waking with an erection in Brooklyn."