Going Nowhere . . .

I got up this morning but was in a haze of apparitions and submerged nightmares half remembered fleeting feelings of dread and couldn't decide between four brands of breakfast cereal so I settled for toast instead. My clothes had fled the closet and left me to pull a blanket around my shoulders but it had no pockets for the keys and other assorted trash I usually carry, so I folded all those items up in a fold of the blanket and headed uncouth and ungroomed out the door to the car, but the car was mired down in a wallow missing tires missing paint and rusting, rusting. I tried to start it but had the wrong keys and in any case there was nothing but a barren engine block under the hood devoid of carburator spark plugs air filter and so forth, and I realized then that I really had nowhere to go anyway so I sat down and started whittling an egyptian cat from a piece of walnut branch. . . Did I eventually wake up from that dream ? I cannot say . . . but I would love to go back and see what this dream car looks like today, 20 years after this photo was taken. . .

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