In my dream…nI come upon the sight of cadets digging in the ground.nThere’s scraping and explosions and they’re singing.nBut my dream is not in sound.nNow I’m spinning, passing windows,neach compartment full of minnows golden brown.nMeanwhile, back on point…n18 compartments up and trying to come down…nData took a swan dive from the tower ofnendless repeating sound.nThere was static on the radio…nThe soundtrack of that circus leaving town.nnOnce we leave our birthing nest,nit makes us into something less.nMom, I’m tired and want to come home.nBut…I need…this…nAnd to my old friends I stick my hand out.nI don’t know why.nTo talk me down or pass a pill?nnUnderwater dreaming…Breathing h2o.nThe furniture up on the ceiling.nWalking with our eyes closed.nnOh, you’ve made a perfect mess.nBut I don’t need you any less.nnIt’s not a dream.nIt’s not home.