Dear Dr Otto Ulfreich Elgernstern von Kartoffelpufferberg –

Last night I dreamt of many things:
Of counting trees and their age-rings
Which for
(more than) five hundred days have burned.
And I can’t say that their smell charmed me,
In fact, it infuriated, alarmed me.
But one tree said “In
You really shouldn’t be concerned.”

But somewhere dark within my dreaming
Amidst a scorched obsession – steaming –
Something deep inside me
Like a locomotive turned.
It rocketed off from the tracks,
Flung the riders on their backs
As that coal-train ran rampant,
Amock into the sea. 

Now loaded was that engine-furnace
With those two trees – which, in earnest –
If its the only thing I learned,
Probably should’ve been let grow free.
For the train, in my interpretation,
I can say, though with some hesitation
– As I know little of psychiatry –
Wasn’t literal, but instead  quite termed
To be – metaphorically – myself  and me.

Thus, I suppose that my question
– which hopefully teaches a lesson –
Would, mostly simply put , then be:
If I, myself, am a train off-ran,
And fidelity-doubt is the sea,
I wonder – need -to understand,
Can any any water extinguish this tree?

Oh! And in this strange and slanted vision
– That is, before the ocean-collision –
It seems like everything’s a plan.
Alas, now the train has no conductor 
(Not dreaming now – he loved her, fucked her) 
So there’s no knowing where to go.
So I, a wild locomotive,
Most often times far too emotive,
Should’ve just stopped dead in my tracks
And let those two trees grow.


Dear, Ryan –
That sounds like quite a dream,
And from deciphering what I can,
I would agree, that you seem
To be more steam-engine than man.

– Sincerely, Dr Otto Ulfreich Elgernstern von Kartoffelpufferberg, Imaginary Psychoanalyst at Large

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