I DREAM OF CALIFORNIA

Last night I dreamed of a California
where arbitrary rules of conscience
were written in red ocher,
not uranium leaking into the sea.

The Califia of darkness bathes
in this liquid light that spreads
between the shoulder blades
like some dark night of invisibility.

But the beach was so real, she said,
I'm dreaming of a place back in time.
Exodus, she said. I'm dreaming of night blindness.
Then blind man fell mute
in a house just like California.

They're white because they have no color.
Las oloras de color. Hace tambien, he said.
Death is a place where the radio waves
fall silent in deep space.

5/18/1985
minor revisions
at John Oliver Simon's place in Berkeley
added 2/18