In my dream last night,

a grand piano falls from the sky

playing a tune I never heard before,

a melancholy melody, rooted

in a time before I knew my name.

I sail out of Murray Harbor

with Barnacle Jim at the helm—

my eyes glued to the binnacle,

following a flock of seagulls

chasing a huge Bluefin tuna.

We come about in a strong wind

and land in front of a seaside hotel.

It starts to rain. The dance hall

deserted, except for a busboy

and young waitress who play

Heart and Soul over and over

and over again.

On this rainy summer afternoon,

they’re moved by bodily heat

into the privacy of a storage

room— innocent and unsure

of whether they’re coming

or going— mutual virginities

fly out the window like carrier

pigeons released to deliver

classified messages.

Milton P. Ehrlich 199 Christie St Leonia, N.J. 07605

Biffman2002@gmail.com