Random Poetry and Dreams br By Reid Baer br br What seems like a quaint little house br adorned with oriental genealogy books br and dated pictures and family knick knacks, br in truth is a house of ill repute, br masking everyone’s eyes with a spell br where the ingénue is the biggest br liar of all - so the bad vibes wake me up br and I take my family of three br and return to our small apartment br to deal with a disgruntled wife br and discover a film crew in br my living room claiming that we’re all br making a movie and their last br set up took 38 takes to get it right br and I’ve totally forgotten the last ten days br and I’m in deep debt and blowing up br a van for the insurance money br and still without a distributor br I’m on the floor while everyone sleeps br winding and rewinding dailies br with Woody Allen and Oprah - br funny stuff but too confusing for br a final cut - and I get hamburgers br still warm in a Fed Ex package br from my star, the Queen of Talk TV, br wishing me luck on the project - br so I eat all the meat knowing br it’s going to be a real long while br before the movie is finally ready br for screening – yeah, a very long while br until I’m assuredly done with this pile br of unedited footage and then … br once again … I awake but now … br this time I’m standing up and dealing br with the taste of bile in my mouth.