HIS STRATEGY WAS TO SPEND A YEAR PREPARING TO DIG
—David McCullough
EMILY VIZZO
Darling passenger, the cosmos are a long way away & this
Cup of milk is close. Remember what you told me about
Your dreams, how they passed close like white parachutes
Outside your bedroom door? I feel them too, their sweet livers,
The hollow quality of their bones, their clavicles and lashless
Eyes. Our dreams are cousins, sweet pea. They share paper
Plates at barbecues heaped with homemade foods, they peer
Uselessly at their wristwatches. They come in every color, but feebly.
Your dream pulls taut the mainsail and sloops. Your dream & my dream
Windmill together on a broken swing set, holding hands. Our dreams
Invent the names of gentle monsters devouring aloe vera plants.
Our dreams invent the names of swings, walk sweet dying dogs gone
Blind in the mouth. In the morning our dreams feed us creamed chow &
Rub our tender undersides. Our dreams whisper that we’ve lived a good life.
Your dream wraps you in your baby blanket. My dream holds me like a swollen
Ligament, applying gentle pressure & bandages. Your dream kisses your dipped
In belly button. My dream counts my toes. When they think we’re not
Listening, our dreams confer in hushed tones. At my urging you venture
The crucial question. Here’s the thing, your dream begins.
Listen to Emily read "His strategy was to spend a year preparing to dig" below:
EMILY VIZZO is the author of Giantess (YesYes Books). A National Geographic Educator and former Artist in Residence with the National Center for Ecological Analysis and Synthesis, she was a recent panelist at the Nobel Prize Teacher Summit in Stockholm, Sweden and is translating from Italian. She served on the Executive Committee in Santa Barbara for the Surfrider Foundation to help protect the coastline and ocean for California’s Central Coast. Her free public science and creative writing workshops received a 2018 Coastal Fund grant through the University of California, Santa Barbara.