The Eagle and the Wooden Box

Last night I was in the desert (with Prometheus, I must assume), and he was tied by some inscrutable means to a jagged peak of desert stone thrust up like an offending, throbbing piece of cartilage; from betwixt the legs of an angry God.

And below,

in the desert sands,

we hefted jagged spears of finely sharpened wood

like vampire stakes upward

...and pierced

his flesh like a Hanging Saint

before the Tribunal of a Roman Prelate

And somewhere

down the road

a man at the bar

with a cracked mug and a bad attitude

sees his hand fly up and I know

...this is a Hollywood set because

the director is someone whose name is a byword for fame (and he's playing this role)

and then I'm wandering around downstairs in a filthy set of basement rooms beneath some sort of hospital lab when two whores come in and one of them pulls down her panties over long sleek legs and I say "she has a great ass" and then we lie down and I thrust my tongue between her teeth as she smiles and all the while

I am opening a box that I think is a pet and it's a highly-lacquered piece of wood

--with ornate carvings and there are animals wandering around down here

in a subbasement room (which must be a zoo) and one of them is the most massive eagle I have ever seen

and he's thrusting his beak into the box I call baby

and I wonder: how I'm going to get around him without him taking a chunk out of my ass?

--this is only one night alone and I wake up and say to myself god man that was some silly dream...

But what about the Eagle and the wooden box?