Saturday night I had a vivid dream that left my heart pounding. Parked on a city street (in Manhattan?), after stepping out of my car for but a moment, I returned to find two young men—teenage boys—already sitting in it in the act (it was clear to me in the dream) of stealing it. Without a moment's hesitation I pulled the nearer boy out of the front passenger seat, raised him up with a strength that I probably no longer possess, and threw him, "with prejudice," up and over the rear of the car. Then I yanked the other boy out from behind the steering wheel, threw him to the pavement, and kicked him viciously....
I wonder whether this dream may have been prompted by the free verse I'd posted the same day ("Even though...still Nature...."), in which I'd spoken of violence, but with no acknowledgment that I myself was capable of it. My dream did remind me that I am capable of it. I had discovered by introspection (and dreaming) years ago (during the Vietnam War) that, yes, if someone (a man in my imagination) broke into my home (at the time in San Jose, California), I would be fully capable (morally if not physically) of killing him to defend my wife, my children, myself, our home. Violence, given the "right circumstances," lies just beneath the surface of myself...and of you?
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