Meet Caleb and Ashley

I've been a bad door, opaque
and impenetrable. But what are doors for?
Tomorrow is for living, today's
to plan, yesterday was the moment.

Open the future and glance back
at your driveway if you have one.
The moment now cannot exist.

The door, the door--the door of
Caleb's awakening.

Walking through one, meaning opening
it, he knew all was about to change,
and in the next moment, it did.

In my dream I icefish
and count my companions as
carefully as my drinks at Cupertino's
(a bar named to remind us Northerners
of warmer, more innovative climes).

I invented the iPad in my sleep,
years ago, but I didn't write it down,
& forgot. I invented Caleb
just now, thus jotted, but until I say
more, he's just a brownstone
unknowable, smooth as a doorhandle.

Be my Caleb, I'll say, to a
subliminal power, who'll raft in
a suite of characters that make a
wraith a man, & figments into
full-blown legends and college theme
parties where nubile blondes shall
use the occasion to dress more
revealingly even than Ashley, the
saucy waitress from chapter 2,
who's role becomes much bigger
than imagined.