Over the head of the woman sleeping next to you
You see her dream; as in comics, it's in pastel colors
And surrounded by soft scalloped edges.
She and the last Ming Emperor -- Zou Youjian,
(1616-1644) -- raise clouds of dust as they argue
In an old-fashioned car racing down a dirt road.
Neither one of them seems to know how to drive;
You think about entering the dream before they hit
One of the frightened animals running alongside them
But can't remember -- in those dreams of yours
In which, but for a blown tire, you'd have won
The 1961 Indianapolis 500, have you learned
How to use a stick shift?
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