oh man, I had a dream. this weekend I dreamt I was reading a couple of poems by Chris Murray, and I thought, damn she's good. then I woke and later in the day I got to wondering where it was I read her poems. I'd been reading poems online and in print all evening. but in my dream I recall reading Murray's poems in a journal, and how I read journals is usually by dipping into them from back cover and scanning my way to the front. so I hadn't read them online but I just couldn't place where and when I read the journal.

I'm so used to getting five hrs of sleep, working with a sleep deficit, that waking life and dreaming life blend together. I dream when I'm awake, and I read when I dream. and the dreams are so fricking vivid that I think an episode I experienced was but a dream, and the dream is an episode from my waking reality.

all weekend I'd been racking my brain trying to remember where I read Murray's marvelous poems. till I started rereading Crag Hill's journal Score, and lo, there I find Chris's poems, the very ones I'd been reading in my dream. and I was right, damn she's good.