The School Locker Dreams

 (c) 1993

Finally, I dream the locker unlocked and open

after decades of forgotten passwords,

attempted safe-cracking, faulty x-ray glasses,

only to find the contents confusing.

 

One painter’s five-use-utility tool

for unscrewing cover plates and filling holes.

The handiness of appearing untainted and new.

The tool is rusted beyond repair.

 

One stack of blank paper.

I know these once contained notes,

ambiguous embryos of novels or essays

now invisible ink and bloodless.

Read into them what you must.

I can no longer read them at all.

 

This dream leaves me empty

hence the crumpled candy wrappers

scattered inside the locker.

 

It has come to this:

contents I could not go on without

now unneeded and powerless

to further possess me.