No sense of closure from that dream last night. You were back and dancing sublime and you said That those who live in cul-de-sac places Feel nothing but anger when the dreams refuse to come.
You would never have been so philosophical in real life, Though we both lived in dead-end places, Cul-de-sacs leading nowhere and bungalows of derision. There’s no place to go when there’s only one way in.
I’d like to be more adventurous and I'd like to take chance. I’d like to live, but just being with you Was adventure enough, and you said that you needed more Than love and security, and that defined our difference.
Only the one way in, and one way out, and you felt Hidden away from the world, and your dreams were on a Larger canvas, a widescreen for the soul, You said my focus was too narrow, that I was
Easily satisfied with the status quo, which is to say, The comforts of a life hidden from potential harm. And yet I’d dream the same dreams as any damn fool, And I’d write them in a notebook, closure or not.
And now those very same dreams exclude a man Who never sought finality. I look out at my cul-de-sac, Hidden off from the main road where dreams often die, Narratives which end far too neatly for my tastes.
Just for a minute I’d like to fall asleep and dream Of neat resolutions, and maybe from time to time, You’ll pop up and say hello, and wave, and we’ll be Ever so cosy in our cul-de-sac, with the world calling, But we won’t answer, and we’ll both be laughing.
No sense of closure from that dream last night. No sense of closure from that dream last night.
Robert Garnham 