by Jeffrey Murrell


I dreamt, of all places,
On TV, my friend
Who had the reputation and taste
For travel to strange lands,
Leaning back upon a tree,
Smoking a cigarette
Within the thin walls
Of an Oriental camp.

I peered out the window
Of the decrepid old house,
And, behind some trees,
The captain said,
"The planet's setting sail!
We're going to Japan!"
The planet's setting sail?
But you can't do that!

And the ocean, it spanned
Out to the horizon
As orbs of red
Shot out beyond it.
We entered a cavern
Where the stage was set,
Portraying wild children
Heaving rocks over our heads!

And looming over all
Was the planet great and red;
Its face was a swirl
As continents were bred,
Rotating slowly,
So calm on its axis--
The emperor's dream,
Planet Japan!

And the sea was blue,
But the sky was red
And all this confusion
Converged in my head.
Then I awoke.
Then I wept
On the Day of

Oh, look at me now!
I'm sailing away!
I just need a cure
For my aches and pains.
In one-nine-eight-seven
We were wasting away.
Embrace the sweet future, it's been a long wait!