The Divinatory Crowd of Dreams

Catherine Gil Alcala


Dream 1

I open the door, my house is an inner prairie

surrounded by forests.

The reverberation of a mental landscape

in the torpor of the heatwave day

the anxious laughter of a presence in the depths of water

or the cry of the Osprey …

The rings of the rainbow fly from the horizon

and brush my head.

An extraterrestrial buzzing is infused in the sky.

A dolorous hornet cracks my head.

A ring of the rainbow falls at my feet

and turns into a little blue dog.

The fragmented child… the stone of wide open eye…

The sea mom puts on its blue stockings…

Whispering of sand castles.

Trembling of the butterfly wings of Morpheus…


Dream 2

Dramatic writing pushes the limits of reality.

I write in prosaic verses my crocodile laments …

I cross the main plaza of Madrid,

with the profusion of rococo ornaments.

Mirage of palaces outlined with chalk…

The storm of whipped milk in a cup of tea…

A thingummy prince poetizes while chewing on his diction.

A dirt road goes up in a country landscape.

A dwarf rides a dog made of orange peel

in the contaminated aether.

Pelican wisdom…

Men shoot pigeons that fall at my feet.

I sing a mantra to heal injuries,

wavering in the center of the world.

My blue shoes transform into

two bloody white geese.

The infantile totem in the shadow of primitive light.

Rite of peeing in the water of dreams,

on the verge of tears.