The Cerebral Catalyst

One summer, when I was about fifteen
I went out behind the school and stole
a 55-gallon drum
I filled it up
with gasoline and I painted it
the color of the sun
I nailed on some bicycle wheels
from a Schwinn 10-speed
a gift from this girl
and I made a pair of wings
from a pair of crutches that I had carefully
covered in tin foil
a mirror ball, a headless doll,
a lightning rod, a prayer shawl
a crucifix for a hood ornament
I made a harness out of
barbed wire and I
dragged that thing
everywhere I went.
People said "Hey!
That thing smells and it's leaking,
and it looks like it might explode —"
"You just don't understand a
man with a dream," I said
and I dragged it
further on down the road.

Everywhere I went I
added some little something-or-other
to keep the dream alive
a railroad lamp, a dead man's
vest for a flag, some tiny bells
a spinning barber pole,
a beehive
a weathervane, a bridal train, a
coffee pot filled with baby's teeth
wind chimes made from a socket set
a coffin lid, a Christmas wreath —
People said, "What is that
thing? It doesn't look safe, what is it for?"
"You don't understand a man with a
dream!" I said and I
dragged it on some more.

One day a quiet man came down the
road, he saw where the barbed wire had
made me bleed.
He didn't say much, but
somehow I knew that he could give me
the answer that I'd need.
I said, "It hurts like
hell to pull this thing around,"
He said, "then just throw it away."
And as I drag my dream from town to
town I think of the
wisdom he
shared with me that day.

______________________________________
See more of Dave Morrison at www.dave--morrison.com.

posted 03.05.07.

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