i remembered a dream

Its sort of a spidery thread. that whisper that touches you in barely audible and tactile strokes. It is a phantom type of game--remembering that is. i was born everyday to meet this evening. hello fellow ferried soul they say. hello familiar face i say. its the same face a blank listless melting sheet of skin--i know all of them by now. its been 20 years--only 3 since i forgot how to respire in my clothing. i climbed out of my skin and walked down fdr to the 22nd house built to withstand a hurricane. I'll never know if it can for the clouds rained and rained and the winds blew and blew and we forgot what was alive outside our home. the windows certaintly cannot, despite the sublte ruse the venetian blinds provided it was nonetheless vulnerable. we lived in a kiln-- a cement block. i remember the roofs had foam sprayed on them than they covered it in laytex and painted it white or gray. everyone's home was the same less the color--the colors were an eyesore, cliche, poorly imitated, absolutely revolting--in every assortment of peptobismol pink and aquamarine blue--i would imagine it looked like easter does on lsd.( i hear the colors are rather bright.). but they were all 1960's imitation cement block homes all the same less the colors and the different sizes. We had a larger home. 1800 sq ft. for 7 and then 8 people when my brother was born. i suppose it would be 9 if you consider my dog. My little brother now regards our lastes dog as his unofficial thrid brother--the incompacitated one with hair all over him but we love him nonetheless. Due to the lawlessness of the island's contracted waste service our dog was made a sport of and severed in two right across the 6th lumbar verterbrae by dandered garbage men--agry at their life i suppose--they ran him over. i was at school. my mother said there was a lot of blood. "he was trying to hold on best he could, grabbing hold of the life he could between the wheezes of foamed saliva and blood coming out his mouth. He tried to crawl away--he didnt know, he didnt know his legs were gone" i heard the men were laughing. i cried later--not when they first told me--i just wanted to forget about it, so i ran away, but since it was the dry season the blood stain in the middle of the street in front of our house remained there for a couple of weeks. i felt sick when i looked at it. somehow i still picture drunk brown skined black haired men bedecked in jeans worn tennis shoes and a lime reflective mesh vest laughing and pointing out my dog as they try to hit him. houses were all the same. our neighbors had a smaller one, i think it must have been 1200 sq ft. it was ok, they just had 3 kids. one was off at college at duke i think. they had two more sons one younger than me and one older. they were corrupt sons of bitches. the older one had lots of porn magizines and was an alchoholic. He would stay up late playing play station 2 or nintendo 64 while drinking vodka and probably masturbating. he was sick. he announced to me he burnt the face off a gi-joe with a magnifying glass one time. his brother laughed, i felt sorry. to be honest i was sad he wasted the gi-joe. i collected them back then. i would now but my youngest brother has dismembered them all--personally rendering them all casualties of war. i suppose he over hears me listening to npr too much. but the kid was sick. i think he just wanted friends. i remember he tried to be my friend. he gave me a porn magazine. i told him i didnt want it and i never talked to him again. last i heard his acholoism consumed him and he put vodka in a gatorade bottle and took it on a whale watching trip. noone noticed until he almost fell over board and started vomiting on the side of the boat. i suppose he got expelled. but their house was smaller just like our friends who lived on 48 fdr drive had a house twice our size. ther built our house on top of each other. the husband was a higher rank. they also had a cliffside view of the ocean. i think that house would have cost near 2 million dollars to buy now a days. i used to rock climb on cliff their house sat on trying to catch iguanas or any other type of reptile and tarantulas. the climbing was easy, it was mostly just ledges and tumbled rocks. what made it hard was the meticulious pace you had to maintain to keep your life in your hands as opposed to mother natures. that and it was hot. the amber rocks absorbed heat from the sun and reflected it back on your face and front as you took a beating from the sun on your back. it was still worth it to catch something though. but the houses were the same size less the color, the size, and the people.