Spencer Eckart
The building was about to, or had already been burning, and in the documentary, which was playing inside the building that was burning, or about to burn, I was running, or thinking about running, up the steep slope on which my van was parked. But the enemies (were they enemies? In dreams everyone is a little bit you) threw their party anyway, the way parties get thrown in burning buildings, which is to say with a certain desperate mania. I was the subject of the documentary and also watching it, simultaneously fleeing and observing my flight. And the running, which wasn’t really running but more like the idea of running filtered through the peculiar logic of sleep. Point is, things were getting out of hand. Did I escape? The dream ended before the question could answer itself, the way dreams end, not with resolution but with the sudden understanding that resolution was never the point.
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Spencer Eckart is a poet based in western North Carolina. His work is published or forthcoming in The Bulb Region, Lucky Jefferson, Resurrection Mag, Bullshit Lit, scaffold, and more.