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1. Dreams R Us Division

Too busy to sleep?

No problem!

You begin a dream,

and the dream sensor

starts the dream deactivator,

which wakes you with a mild electric shock

equivalent in effect

to two cups of coffee.

Meanwhile, the incipient dream

is transferred and stored

in the company mainframe.

There, the dream completer software

massages the story line

and develops alternate dreamlines.

When it's convenient,

you can select whichever variant suits you,

and, when the market slows

or you are longing for a respite,

the dream of your choice

will be returned to you, fully realized,

to enjoy at your leisure.

For the busy man or woman,

it's almost a dream come true.

2. Nightmare Outlet

In this branch of the greater dream factory,

the wages are lower,

the workers disgruntled,

and an inspector from the dream division

constantly intrudes to insure

that the output is defective.

Here, on a creeping assembly line,

the factory seconds pass for hours.

It's not really good news,

or a relief,

that this division's products

are almost always recalled.




Duane Ackerson's poetry has appeared in Rolling Stone, Yankee, Prairie Schooner, The Magazine of Speculative Poetry, Cloudbank, alba, Starline, Dreams & Nightmares, and several hundred other places. He has won two Rhysling awards and a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts. He lives in Salem, Oregon. You can find more of his work in our archives.
Current Issue
22 Apr 2024

We’d been on holiday at the Shoon Sea only three days when the incident occurred. Dr. Gar had been staying there a few months for medical research and had urged me and my friend Shooshooey to visit.
...
Tu enfiles longuement la chemise des murs,/ tout comme d’autres le font avec la chemise de la mort.
The little monster was not born like a human child, yelling with cold and terror as he left his mother’s womb. He had come to life little by little, on the high, three-legged bench. When his eyes had opened, they met the eyes of the broad-shouldered sculptor, watching them tenderly.
Le petit monstre n’était pas né comme un enfant des hommes, criant de froid et de terreur au sortir du ventre maternel. Il avait pris vie peu à peu, sur la haute selle à trois pieds, et quand ses yeux s’étaient ouverts, ils avaient rencontré ceux du sculpteur aux larges épaules, qui le regardaient tendrement.
We're delighted to welcome Nat Paterson to the blog, to tell us more about his translation of Léopold Chauveau's story 'The Little Monster'/ 'Le Petit Monstre', which appears in our April 2024 issue.
For a long time now you’ve put on the shirt of the walls,/just as others might put on a shroud.
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