This is a dream I dream where I was Fred Flintstone trapped in a George Jetson world. The entire dream is here more or less with some embellishment.
The bed tilts me onto a conveyor belt that whisks me into the shower. Along the way, a vacuum sucks off my nightshirt; spigots open and shower me luxuriously. I stand naked and cold and dazed. Then a mechanical arm brushes my teeth. Afterwards a blow dryer blows me with a mechanical smile. I shave. Continue reading →
When he was alive, my dad and I always swapped stories about any of the many odd dreams we would dream. One morning he sat giggling to himself at the table. He told me he had the craziest dream and after he told me, I found it so funny that I wrote it down for posterity. So here is George Gutschke’s crazy dream. Continue reading →
A ridiculous nightmare in which I found myself back in college and attending an equally ridiculous poetry reading inspired this piece. After I wrote down the entire dream, I decided to focus solely on the poet. Continue reading →