. . . . in which i am wandering around an old school building, looking for a piano. there used to be one here before. i have to crawl into this tight space through this door. i am going round a long corridor, clockwise. there is a black gentleman who i seem to know. he points to a poster showing different people at different stages of development. he asks me which experiences more pain. suspecting a trick question, i point to the enlightened ones at the top. i am wrong, and try to reason about it. he is now gone, i’m outside and looking for him. there is a patch of grass that two women are tending. i understand that it is a garden i started but have not kept up with. the mint has overgrown, but it is still beautiful. one of them asks if they may take ownership, and i encourage them to. i go looking for the package i have set down. i remember holding the felt from the bottom of a chair in my hands. i left with the image of alan singing to me, just his head, as if i am watching a music video, the colors are contrasty, very blue and red, and alan has two mouths, upper and lower. he sings from the lower one. he is conveying something spiritual to me, as i listen to the accompaniment, which reminds me now of stairway.
enlightenment