Last night my dreams were Siamese
twins, joined at the hip and shoulder but paternal, nonetheless
they rolled in my brain, and were born as the usual children are, and caused a lot of pain
with their width and monstrosity. In one a man stood in the door to my room
and it was dark. In another, I taught a class that would not listen. I skimmed the surface
of sleep, in a cedar and wicker boat.