frequently i dream
of dilapidated houses,
porches buckle
under white snow

(sometimes my mother lives there)

many rooms fill these houses
all sparsely furnished,
yellowed wallpaper peeling
and stairs that give up
halfway through
collapsing into a splintery slide
into darkness

freud was once there at the bottom
waiting to catch me
at least i think it was him -
older man, cigar, white hair and beard,
the glasses

i wanted to ask him
what it all meant,
the symbols, their representative
purpose

but suddenly he changed
into an elephant
and i was riding him
along the beach
as a great storm was approaching

(waves crashed against condos)

another time it was my mother
down there in the dark
waiting to catch me
her arms stretched high
her open mouth: a gaping black hole
her eyes: wide, empty sockets
i screamed in this one
tried to claw my way back
up the slide

but suddenly it changed again
and i was sitting in a car
with the heater going
waiting for the windows to defrost,
watching the old farmhouse
crumble before me