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Poem
(Only fellow hose-heads will understand this)

In the dream
friends from long ago in a strange bar
gently push me back
saying that they have colds
and wouldn't want to infect me
I am wearing a mask for breathing
it supplies air from a portable 
fan and battery pack on my belt 
no one else seems to have a mask
and they do not question mine
I think they are lying about the colds
because they really don't talk to me
instead they seem to be talking around and through me
this makes me very angry and I try to tell them so
they just continue talking to each other and
occasionally nodding to me and saying things 
that makes no sense 

   "don't talk with your mouth open"
   "don't breath with your mouth open"
   "don't let the wind blow in your eyes"

I leave by the back door and crawl through
bins of garbage surrounded by loose trash
it is difficult to walk
I come to a large fenced in area
the fence is six feet in height and holds back
a deep pile of empty beer cans
on the other side of the area
is the street and easy walking
I climb the fence 
stepping into the sea of cans
I discover that the fence surrounds a hole
the mass of cans is really much deeper
sinking deeper with each clumsy step 
I am soon completely  submerged in 
a rattling aluminum ocean
some of the cans are not completely empty 
drops of stale beer drip on my face
panic ensues and swimming   
sinks me even deeper
eventually I discover that a combination of turning on my side and
a slow gentle pushing of legs and arms works to get my head above the cans
slowly I move toward the street 
I have lost the mask, fan, and battery pack
the stale beer smell is overwhelming 
my labored breathing sounds like snoring
reaching the other side
I am frantic to get to the street
the fence is now a solid sheet of aluminum  
I cannot get a foothold 
By using the weight of my body I manage to bend the fence over 
I scramble out
a river of cans spills out with me 
it is impossible to take a step without kicking or stepping on a beer can
the morning dog walkers stare as I clatter past
my clothes are dirty and wet with beer
what am I going to tell my parents?

as I awake I am immediately grateful that I am older 
and no longer answer to my parents
but the snoring wife next to me will certainly want to know
where I have been and just what to Hell has been going on

-then the last of the dream-fog clears 
I realize that all I need do is remove my headgear
shut the machine off
and get up as if nothing happened.
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