an old writer and his words

In my dream, the worldwas at peace, and I was ridingacross Kansas on a unicycle, towingmy car, packed to the windows,my dog walking alongside urgingme to speed up because shewanted to visit South Dakota.I am due for a tricycle, Iremind the dog, “the gravemore likely,” she respondswith a sneer that teeters betweenlove and spite, always…