Tom Waits for No Dream

Last night I dreamt that Tom Waits read poetry to my college chemistry class. I don’t recall what the selections were, or who wrote them. But I remember he received a less than favorable response. As he was walking out I kept thinking “that’s Tom Waits.” He stopped by my desk and asked if I could help him carry the large stack of books he had. I helped carry a couple of heavy books out to the parking lot. When we reached his car I see that it is a skeletal jalopy, much like I had always pictured him owning, and a couple physics students were jumpstarting his battery. There were no doors on the car, or a hood. I loaded the books into his trunk. He said thanks and off he went.

(Why am I reading poetry to Chemistry students?)