Dreams About Poets

Every week around 5-10 poets make appearances in my dreams. If I dream of a party or event, many more. Some of these poets I know, but many I know only via their work and/or blogs. Sometimes, I only know their names and nothing of their work or them personally. Once I dreamed of a poet and didn't consciously know he was a poet until I googled his name. Of course, it's possible I just didn't remember seeing his name or reading his work.

I thought it would be interesting to list all the poets I've dreamed about recently, but decided against that. Cause that might freak people out or even worse, certain people might ask what exactly happened in the dream. Would you freak if I said we were walking down the street and I stuck a balloon up your butt -- the helium making you sing like an angel?

Yeah, well in that case, don't ask for the details!

Here's a dream from last night involving the Keeper of All Poet Dreams -- someone I never met, and pretty much only know from her poet dream blog. This dream isn't too embarrassing (I think):

I'm delivering a package on behalf of Lynn Behrendt to either my Pilates studio or my old gym. I go to the Pilates studio first. I pass a soldier on the way who is looking for the package, it's his job to get it, but he doesn't bother with me or try to take it. I walk back home, realize I forgot to do something, and walk back, this time crawling past the soldier -- he pays me no mind. I go into my old gym and a woman who works there greets me, says certain trainers miss me or want to work with me. I don't remember most of them, but pretend I do. She enourages me to attend special sessions over the weekend, but I tell her I'm going to be out-of-town. She says X (another poet, will remain nameless else he may self-google and get an inflated ego) will be teaching a self-defense class on Sunday at 3:00. I ask if he's coming all the way down to VA just to do that. Then I remember that he's doing something at the Pilates studio at that time -- and tell her of the potential scheduling conflict.

I walk out -- going a different way that takes me right past the soldier who is sitting on the desk outside the parking lot. He has to be aware that I have information about the package, but again he pays me no mind and is speaking to someone on the phone about it. A man walks by me and I hear him saying that there was something very dangerous in that package. I don't know what was in it, but I doubt what he's saying. I try to imagine what might be in it, I think maybe wine, but realize the package wasn't heavy enough. I consider warning Lynn or the people I delivered it to, but don't.