Dreamin' in Dreamland

by Ray Manatino

January 7, 2002

I'm dreamin' a dream of a dream
I once had
about a dream that I had once before

The one where the fish flip and follow
each other
diving deep in the dark down below

The one where I'm swimming
safe and secure
sailing a salt-silent sea

The one where I'm dreaming I'm
dreaming I'm dreaming
and three times I can't wake up

The one where the waves wash
the walls all around me
or they would if I weren't in a meeting right now.

Quote of the Day

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores... uh, on second thought, scratch that. If I can pick, don't give me any losers.”

-Emily Dickinsome

Fortune 500 Cookie

Give up the ghost this weekâ€”everybody knows you're drawing those eyebrows on with a magic marker. You may only be a gigolo, but that doesn't mean anybody wants to hear you sing about it. Try naming a constellation after yourself: it worked for that "Chantilly Lace" guy. This week's lucky pets: salamander, ostrich, rutabaga, cow fetus, bottle of deadly germs.

Try again later.

Top Five Worst Things to Hear in an Iraqi Prison

1.	"Oh, wow! Hold still, let me get my camera!"
2.	"From now on, the conduct of corrections officers will be supervised by Private Pyle."
3.	"Looks like we're going to be here a while. Good thing I brought my harmonica."
4.	"These tattoos? Aryan Brotherhood."
5.	"And another thingâ€”you jokers have cried 'Rape!' once too often. I'm not falling for it anymore."

Sunflake
Oh, to be a phantom sunflake resting on the bile. A single, golden, shining sunflake, gurgling in the Nile. An elf's aorta, a unicorn's anusâ€” none could be as sweet. As to be a lonely sunflake munching on a leek. Rainbows tease me, ogres please... (12/24/01)

The Visitors
Snooty bugle-playing burglars Why do you bother me? Go to hell, you naked buglers Cease your melody. Who invited uncooked hamhocks All these pigs I see? Go away, freeloading pork pies Get out my Christmas tree. Get out Santa, get out Elvis Get out... (12/10/01)

Distraction
Fifteen phantom penpoints All under my control I move them deftly, swiftly smearing ink upon a single slice of paper. Sixteen sweatered titties Distracting me so simply from my fifteen phantom penpoints Nothing worthwhile written, once... (11/26/01)