In an unknown Asian country, mild tremors rock the earth all day. I am walking the wobbly roads of a small village where few live.  China?  Am I in China? Clay walls, red roofs, green doors, geese waddling, dogs napping in smoke.

How did I get here?  I don’t want to be in China.   I walk to an old station, get on a train to somewhere; don’t know where to get off because I don’t know the language. It isn’t Chinese and there’s only one other person on the train:

A woman with Elephantiasis sitting near me gives me a bowl of noodles with live sardines leaping in and out the broth.  The train jostles, noodles spill, sardines are flapping on the floor.  I picked them up and swallow them whole like a seal.

A station comes into view.  It is smoldering with fire.  The woman says in perfect English, “Get off here.”, so I do.  Not knowing where I am, I feel all eyes on me, but only a few kids are there.  They point and run away squealing like piglets.

Another train pulls in.  Getting on, I find ancient art standing on seats and in the baggage cage.  The train hunches, jerks forward, dishes teapots vases cups Buddhas falling, crashing…

Hard as I try, I cannot catch one.  I wake in a mild panic feeling I’ve been traveling and just got home.  Fucking dreams!  I haven’t the foggiest what this one means, I’ll write it down.  I’m sure my therapist will have something amusing to say.


Rayn Robert 2017



Have a Tao Day.

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