The Dreamdreamt

A Finnegans Wake inspired piece.

“Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot.”

 

-Neil Gaiman

 

 

stag! A stag? A stage! A puppet pon the stage, singing his sillies songs. Mumbledtumbled nots fly frilleyfrawley o’er watchers onydere to ‘scape their lifeSCAPadeEs. Disaponting! I, J18, laugh ‘long with them; furies on the Ave. parrotty babby’s road. Oh the laughter, oh kay-oz ‘pon the stage; the teers, we see them (they think we don’t hownever we doos) allin black, ravens raving with pupsin sted of glasglow sticks, which could be dangermuse ncase if the glowing glasses make their way to the fall(DING!) floor (CRASH!) deighwood showstopper, as swepsweeps come to pick them up for glastbins, and never to be scened again. They make the arm-furs sing and dance and comede no stag (on stage). Fur long the road! On the st. pollyseast; a cue for the Avenew ‘round the block. Whilst tubadeers bring a bassy buzz to the tymleetoons: the pit filt with brooding Gs making the quitterquatter halfhalf wholes waltz to ears in threefour, and owlookers get twisthead turnhead along there merry way. Inhandst! The screans, theys screems these pictures, and wheeled offanon St. Age (the teers his hands) the crowded confuseded seems twos likes it and hates it. Ginot seens! Fill St. Age, patrone of the Act, one who lets them tear and songandance, and shhhpeel ‘pon his great woodned belly; his rathorb St. Reet, ouside him, allways to him; Lead! They do! One a rowdsmith , one a wordsmith. And smiths ne’arfall far the Tree. First tree! (where it all began; where the ribber was robind bed to begin all things and where malple robdead to end all things) St. Ratum, pateromni. He rules up onall, His suness; His dorktears; His everythings: Us! His brauthor (though) is the exception. he’s no a St. either, but he rules the damcap remscape with his intents inlucid insanity only him knows. He conspired this tale you know? Yes! He told it to me onight whilst ontrip adN odland. There he sat, next to me, the Madcap, laughing, joking, chortling, at his own cremaktion before him.

Then with not warning, the nodnence began to strise. to the back! with popters dealing the weighted ways. And lie therry we were. Brought? Instrange! Them mazely walls fills amazedly tales: The toly holy-sing of Irriam. An orangetangs spreekill; You’llsees and his Dubloom partcounter. Ciela wanders a crazyhazy ?land. There Dark Manterials. Look yunder shelf, someone’s lost their pair of dice. St. Age’s linefiller and kingkiller (frilly neked membered words). The morndarchs mistories for alto C. Lost in sensation and stumbling translation the nodnuance stawktawks and halkstalks the pupformer twho knows place in partculiar. O bestrange dame! O bestill tail! O belovemy my love be! Should this be Finnegan? Endagin? Dan a gain? Stop Dear! Hop! They hop; you hop; I hope. So…be here wit knee, and talespin with me- Doe go? Stop! Hop! Dear? Stop? Were you? Therewolf! Where you?-Go! Fineden! Isle tay ‘lone, stay inthmus fine den! Hear? I’ll stay Here! Withnot you, my Dear!

She’s left; I’m right. Here To Stay. But nither hither are the books nomore. Where? Whos know? Do not Sewsell told me so, and there he lays with owned around him (the Mad Catter and his Thingswon and Thingstoo; the greengrouch and all the chrismissy Whos; Yerton and Hortle, that stakstaching tortle; and the Oneler and Lorax, back threw his smogportel. All came to wish there man well, for he’ll spend his dying days here, in this stark soap-hothell.) Because books now beds and withstill mazely tallwalls. Eve now stringnest! The notinance now nowhere. Whit! There they’re scrubly scrubing this (now) helpsital. O, here the Nodcap’s laugh (Yes he finds it heriterical). B*****d! Then thrulaff he speks:

“Well if I wasnot to chortlechuckle at tyourtue, then how would come me joyllies. This is all I am and this is all I can be. Youthinks me ill. Then this is how Ills timespass. Readenride mystory, which is me (ettu) and lyearn some about your.” Gone! Pfft! Like that! (snap) Can you beat them? No! Sothen justly join them. Alright Then. Take up th ‘sdeathoscope and walk then! I’m sed ull right O, God, alt his crazy nieghts makes for one daisy headspin. (Do that they will, child) Walk! I will! And I did. Longwalked the ways, saw patentpatient, them all sicklyseperate, and me, with scharletting, healed them all; save one (didn’t). And there was one Eve, that which find herself outside anadamy too quicker than should be and (So sad. Why? Thecause that) she had beleft warm bed woumbed. Stayed she did a novmonth, and now she’s- Hear! Hear her screamhowl! Like a bands shes harbringing a masslive death. For this be the labhour and Godsaves a man whose tubytube hair. I see her, (likenots that! Get your minder out off the hergut!) not alongafter all was screamdandydone, and (whistle!) she could launch thousno ships, no schwooners would squallsail for hernaim, maybly wonortwo…in darchfog night…if Felix, the sealess, screwsailed thems boaths. (Damn!) I dig for ressed. I sawed her, nho OutFromForm-spring hin harm, leafing like it was Newbender. Her colorphyll has not changed though! I know. She’s yellno; norange; nilburn; stillgreen! I know and she swantears out side slydoors leaving spring to norphwon. A splendnot guardninny she makes. That maggylane! A Penny for her Lane! Molly’s stretchdid, muscledandcockled till grandhalled. Whose wood do that? A whorrible that who. Shame she left this soaphotel so unclean, that slitslut, who left her son with out pairnots. Why not justly carpent him a corphan? That’s all that’s there for him anyol’ way. Hell just rise Caine kill Abel too die, and gatepasses Pete to foundfine you, a bitchly supergit that gave him up for adapshine, and the wholehanded Christie will turn a cheek, and God Hymnself bear wontness as you get slutslapped by your first sunknown. I need to leave this place! This hellpistol. Too much sadmess and discpairs, how do the whitecoats do it dayafterdayafterday? I couldn’t! I’d challenge crate full o’ Hippo to wreneyed here, I couldn’t stand being henpicked to take an oat the hypos dothat to heal hippocontracts and take the Hippo contract to do it. I couldn’t! Ides rather relax writewroting knownsense till I need a scythescope to see Caesar at the perlywerdlys and he uttmarks: “And you…Brutal!” 

I’ll spare a graph. I drove next, roadroving at pitchblack, no domelights on me rack and in starlightle snight. Looking for a talkie with a wallkey at mighsigh no rimrhyming toe, ton kyle rehe, infact sileness their maybe (can’t’’member). O well. The we got to All Bonesy, Lord knows how on ecksat node, wherenot convected to noplassmass nears Calibadnhee; Vear wheel tirelight niece endsun up? Deerhee meat. A night never smeed solong, but the cause vee dose our dives on Ave. A. (not Q.) tiredlesswe ly slepose deknocked, hithering noting and disemperstanding it sintentions. O dear, we ride St. Reet, as litenite envours us, and with notta nightlight to our names. Afeared? No, youse? Alatel! ‘tsohkay, well take it through, maibme, noctlights vilmer verk soonsenuff, cousifs not it will gate merry bumpygumpy. Holy s#!t! We makes it (tanksly be inmorter) and those lowseater stabhards kerrwood not give us the thicknets, myos deeos we come alltisk way to sear a talkwalk pitch, or evened a fading flymm, buuuuut nooooh-ohhhh! (Ewww Scry Dem!) We leaf, hatenhand, willen of the tear: Pissoff! I’ll drivedrove hears nomoor, and rightlong we divered on the driveaway back to the abyssmal blackmess of ymnight. Still no domelights to rip danite, and neven warse it’s getting darchmichdarcher. Pulldis o’er? Yespleasies. Onto shoulderness I wented, waiting for lightlies inany was possibled. But they don’t- Work! Youdam ned lightsies, I need you two get meself and herself homestead. Isthis from your bag of tricksterme? Are they absence of dato flightlights you doing? No answer came, but the soundings of sack-aye-titas, buzzly boomizing while in heat, and the occultional ghotly car, driving right through the blackmess, withno won bhind it’s wheel, but the ghost and jinn running, and just likes that (Snap!) the hadalvas shone blightly on the darkroad, ivoominhazing blacktahe and its goaldashes. We move on? Ohyes! Nothing else to do here? Nooh! What now? The nigh tis ninety-nine and onesent vivspan; wheretwo? Follow the dashed backter eyesguess, noting left ear for to nose, and doordon’t, unless to enjoy chikaytas all night; drive? Yes’r! ‘longwent we went, the way we camen from. Back to the River and the Pearl, the Rock and the Wasted Land (TselioT be proud, your words inspired a town, hear April is the cruellest of months…no, shantih shantih shantih though, they took it more literally…and with Alvie Hall, instead of) back to our Home’s Town. What a wastedt ripped this hasbin. (No, then it would have seedmead mores funt…Touche). Just GO!!

Too bads eyes no clue how we made it here. The roadds twistandturned to the point ony Daddyloss, creamaker of toolsandthwings, could have lazylaid them, but it’s nogoodknick finding him, still mornsick four his fallwing son. Blearytear eyed, he clutches Ikrusted body, lifely nomore, belammeling selfish for his son’s weight, ofless twentyone grams:

“Why? O, Why? I father this fatal art only to lose my father’s hood to the Neptunian depths of this world, damn this fatal art and a curse to any man who believes his place is with the skyblurdies.” (And of coarse, he was wright for a time, till to Good Ole Boys launched in Chittymach.) A shame about the sun and all, but we need to navimake our way out this labmynth. The only things to do is get lost enough to be find again –left-left-right-left-right-right-…and…we’re back where we were, (what the eff?)! I said I’d never comeback hearagin. Fawking, Dream! But a bridge, was the there before? No couldn’t have been, we were just here. Apparitionally not, b/c there was nobridge befour. This is getting waytooweird (-I agree). So we went two wordsthe crossbriver, wewood kneed to ewentually, and wouldn’t you knowit’s bumperbumper on the bridge. (O, why do you do this to me? Is it some retribation for somesin? Is my defection from realty an effection of sum infections of my affections?...Guess your slighnence says it all. Just somsine would be nicely of you, it’s hardest being inknowrant of akrime, axe anyman whose sillovely enough to gatherhis beloved to join in holy matyrmony, in healtherpoorer, till him sees your sicksitting thithter, blackgarbed in all her paledark beauty, for a final walkback to where he camen from, never to be ascene agin, askthem see howit felts. Now I can only be penitent, hoping the trafuck will- BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!

Left side car bloomed straight into sky just now, joyning the Icerestboy in the winedark. Qtyjhgfdszsxcvbnmlytrwsdfghjhgfdszxc vbnkytrdsbnmllytwdfv! Is that ewersine?!!-BOOOOOOOOM!!! Another outedmobile just..just..got blbluen uuup. (But trackfix opening up) DRIVE!! Pedaltomeddle we speed across the brooming bridge, as ottomiblowns (leftnright) get shot straight to the air (rightnleft). Sulfursmell is chok-(Cough!)-choking making it hardest hard to bree-(Cough!)-breathe. GAAAAASP! Is the ground amovingshaking?...Oh it’s shaking…The brivbridge is rattling…and the fraggildrock is rolling of it with his fasthaste into the winedepths like it was vinevited. Still tireflying over the quake-ing bridge, divedodging scionshrapnell, fordfireballs, blazingblazers, and conflagratedcadies, the last targroveled fell into the Mudson, releaving a grate beneath it from which flames burst out at random times. Needleless to say, I brakestepped like all the other poorsouls on thatbridge, waiting for a random fireshot to make our end, and then (fivefeet in front of us) the meddle of the bridged coflappsed. What to do? What to do? Risk the flames, or risk the fall? I look to myside, her eyes said “Fall of flame?” And I realeyezed thatit was a thoriserace. What to do? What to do? Fhuckit, I’ll ghunnitt. Before I couldthougho another bracenman went, but I was bumpermumper with him and just as he was about to fly’cross gap, the shotflames burnturned his undercarriage and he fell to a rocky deapth, unfortunately for him fortunately for us because the flamecame stopped as we drove overit and crossedagapped to others’ side (muchmore tanksly bein mortar for Felix being wiffus t’isnight).      

And as we landed to the othrsid, the sicklysmell of staliva filled the nose trill and toughts rifted twoandfour those moonskies with a Beaiding Backstabber. What was I tinkering? What am I sinking? Doing with that harlow (uuiffno herd r and t). There’s no goodhard about is orher, never wuzizwhilme. But that aromance will semperstalk, spineshudder me, errorytime my thought, for every fleeting lapse in synapse. Gauzbe not her ,but you, be buzzly bizzing in my tawtzen dremdrams. And dereustan on a u-boat (onlynot) underneedsa teasy crucif cares, hands crescentrauffing, your hair bebreezing in the wind, as I hurtleskurtle to he joy nedside. Hear the dearcheering from a cheery cheer crowd. Lo a crowd. Lo a show. It’s all been a show. A show that’s been prik pashtished and real hoarse abd donandone ovareno viragin enagin. Yet there I was inda meddle offitall. I coud have died, been set ablaze that that bankhed giner and never seen my friendsen fam nevermore. A splitsecond from the Savyouor really makes you think: What happens? What? and always leads to why? And endly when? But that’s for laterlater, because notleftnow I’m just alittle lated to not beknamed as late. And remembrained by a blippy blipped blurp into marrow’s new yosseous tibes. I can see it nevernow:

“Teeny kily’d in bridgy axe’d en!!”

The head lines never for me, the made though theres nother story. A tellix bris pons (I know), but it distended. It stall haypinnin right now. The crowds searingscreams and for almost second you’re allmissed flamous. And at the bottomness once you hitt the bottombriz, you’re gone from their mind, beau case you’re at the bottom and none cares for there. 

            Lookylooky at whosiz dere all the peery dearies that I nowandlater and may homey hoame. Out of the vannymilbil and into the crowd to become onifdeme. There with the brinnytinny brawntawned curleycues, the hipitched birdcally girl; and next to her the gold-faired spekled clarish, gold-commed girl, with the sunni-sarcasm that makes you fall over in a haze of laughter; oh and the wonmanu oneder, miss sinistra (but she doesn’t), the most daisychains ofem all; joining them from the bebymabel, tiztipsy, the eyetan, who’s seen everything I have: the talkies, the roaving, the growout, and the blowoff bridge. The four of them watch the sh-(BOOOOOM!!) there does another unoffden-ow together because they’ll netherleave eachther, forfriended fourlife, and the four.