I am so stoked to be in this!
Moxie in the Dreamscape
I’ve heard you can’t die in dreams. I’ve heard the shock always wakes you up. Oh sure, you’ll fall, but that dyskentic kick or lunge and gasp for breath always sends you gasping on the surface of the third dimension , grateful and amused. Thank God, it was just a dream.
I am eyes darting, side to side in the severed head of Roy Orbison. I always take the form of Roy Orbison in my dreams, because I suppose my subconscious recognizes him as the epitome of cool. I don’t feel so cool now looking through dark sunglasses at my arm over here, my foot over there, and viscera scattered here and there. There is never blood in the dreamscape, just wounds and pieces.
I hear Moxie screaming and sobbing. He’s still working on Moxie. I don’t know what her father had against me–or us–but he…
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