Vincent B. Rain's 115th Dream (poem)

I was over at David Bowie’s house takin’ a shower
When Catherine Deneuve walked in
"Vincent" she said, "it’s raining"
I looked at her and said
"Yes, I know"
"Would you like to take a walk in the rain?"
She slipped off her robe and came in
She came in so very slowly
She stared into my eyes
Hers were smoldering
Dave was in the living room typing
He put on a song
It was China Girl
Catherine’s arms were snaking around me
Slowly
Like a sensual octopus
The rain flowed through our hair
Onto our shoulders and down
To the fire where our bodies met
She began kissing me
They were French kisses
And I in turn kissed her
Dave whistled a tune
As he made himself lunch in the kitchen
I bit Catherine on the neck... gently
I sprouted horns and said in a deep throaty voice:
"You make me feel so French”
Her hands explored every part of me
And mine hers
Suddenly we were one
Our passions were like tomatoes in the rain
Like French grapes
Eviscerated, savory
Spiced with our breaths
Our lips melting
Her face turning red of fire
As she lit me ablaze
We were animals
I began to wonder what our children would look like
I just knew there would be children
Would they look like Sartre or Jean Genet?
Would they look like Joan of Arc?

Suddenly we smelled somethin
It was Alfred sitting on the toilet
I hollered out to Dave
What is Hitchcock doing here?
"It’s okay", Dave said
"He practically lives here"
Suddenly I realized I was caught in a film
Just like “The Hunger”
Catherine was revolted by the smell
Her passions waned
I waned as well
There would be no children
Hitchcock was very polite as he transferred to the bidet
Then Dave mentioned that he needs to take a shower
Has to run down and see his agent or something

I started to get out
Dave said “that’s okay”
I thought it was a curious overture
But he was just being his well adjusted self
There were two nozzles
Then right when I dropped the soap
William Burroughs was standing there
Outside the shower curtain
"Vincent" he said, "your gonna be huge"
"I’m already huge" I told him
"Would you like to see?
And by the way" I asked
"How on Earth did you ever learn to write
Those convoluted lines in Naked Lunch?"
He said “You gotta get dirty”
By then he was on the bathroom sink
Shooting something into his vien
He asked me to come out and squeeze his arm
So I did
Just as Dave and I walked
Into the living room naked
Bill slumped over the sink
And fell on the floor
The maid shrieked in horror. "He’s dead" she said
Iman laughed when I said
“He’ll never die”
She toweled off Dave and threw me a towel
Dave lit a cigarette
"Vincent", he said
"You write a mean song
I want you to meet a friend of mine from Berlin"
Out on the balcony
Overlooking Central Park
It was Marlena
I was a bit shocked
I thought you were….
Just then Andy Warhol stood up
"Dead?" he said, "I believe the word is dead"
Marlena broke into a gentle song
“Falling in love again”
Then she looked at me and said
“You are the soul”
"The soul of what?" I asked
“You are the young and handsome soul of Europe”
"I’m just a big nobody" I insisted
"I’m just a gargoyle on the left bank
I’m a two bit street houdlum
A penniless nothing
A struggling wretch
A nobody, you hear? A nobody!
It’s you people that have it all
You’re the beautiful people"
Then Marlena smiled and said very sweetly
“I remember you
I remember your mother in France
Before you were born
And I will always remember you”
“And I you”, I said to Fraulein Dietrich
"Don’t ever give up" she said
"Don’t ever let go of the dream"
“I won’t” I said
"I promise you
I will never ever ever wake up
I will dream until they shoot me"
Just then Bill came out of the bathroom and said
“Don’t ever let them shoot you”
"I won’t" I said, "I won’t let them shoot me"
"Unless they’re using a camera" Andy interjected
"Don’t let them shoot you like they shot me"
As I looked over the edge of the balcony I saw Yoko
Twenty floors below
Laying flowers on Strawberry Fields
Looking like a woman forever trapped
In the face of a child
Then I felt a hand on my shoulder
"You’ve got to kill your idols" John whispered
"You’ve got to believe that we are your equals"
“And we believe in you” Marlena said
"Because you believe in all of them
All of those people down there
Who only seem small from up here"
“Sure it’s a dream” they all told me
"It’s the best dream you can ever have
To be who you are"
"I’ve known that for a long time" I said
"And I knew that you knew it too"
We all have the potential to be
Far more beautiful on the day we die
Than on the day that we were born
Just then the wind blew through the city
A clean fresh new wind
And we were all alive
You and me and all of them
Sailing in a brand new wind
Like a new Spring

footnote: Most dreams are weird but no poet can fail to grasp the beautiful message in a good dream. This dream was invented as a mataphor of the hopefulness in all writers and employs small touches of mild humor. To understand it fully you might need to be especially familiar with the lives of the famous icons cast in the dream, several of whom are personal favorites. Also you cannot convey or grasp the meaning of such a poem without focused elocution. The poem is centered on the human eccentricities of a handful of interconnected counter culture heroes portrayed in an intimate setting of friendship. But the real theme is the richness inside of ourselves. The title is adopted from "Bob Dylan's 115th Dream"

The phrase "kill your idols" was never literal. I seem to recall that John Lennon said (paraphrasing) "you've got to kill your idols". What he apparently meant was that we all harbor the creative seed and we must not simply idolize iconic artists (like himself) and make myths of them while we fail to deliver ourselves into the full creative realm of our potential.

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© Vincent B. Rain

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