my back pages

so i had quite the dream last night.

i walk into this book store and there's an old guy in there--the bookstore is supposedly my fave one in town, but it's much bigger inside with isles and corners and secret rooms opening behind some of the shelves. anyways i start browsing, and i browse forever (i swear i did--haha i remember, ginsberg's howl was 46 dollars!) anyways finally i tell the old man that i'm looking for dylan thomas. he tells me that they moved the poetry section to the secret room, and he pushes one of the sections, and bam, there's a door. and a room--a dusty room with bunk beds, and books scattered all over. i keep searching for thomas, but no use. i finally go back home, with my arms full of books but when i get home, the books turn out to be cheesy, weirdo, disney plays.

so i took that as i sign and as of today, i'm starting a thomas phase. i had read this one in the states in one of the classes, so i guess since it's the first thomas poem i've ever known, it is only appropriate to quote from it:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

love you all.