I'm Adelimo and this is The Slowdown.

I am one of those people who believe that the dream world is just as important as the waking

world.

My whole life dreams have revealed something to me, even if they simply alert me to what's

going on in my inner life right then.

My dreams often focus on water, on fish, and also on a previous home in Glenn Allen, California

that seems to always be there, waiting for me to return.

Today's poem is a lyrical tribute to dreams, how each dream shows us something about

the dreamer and how our many selves are revealed to us in the all too real dream world.

Nine Dreams by Nicole Cecilia Delgado translated from the Spanish by Katie Maria for Marina

Ruiz Rodriguez.

One I hide my sanity in a clay vase when I snore, only its broken rhythm remains.

Two As a child I repeated the same dream.

Twenty centimeters from my face sharp little men came alive, a single line drawing.

I always wanted to touch them with my fingertips, but the edge of their body was a knife and

I bled.

Three There is a house I always return to, several houses, one is white and in ruins.

To get to the other one you must go down the whole mountain.

Sometimes awake I remember them and want to go, but they don't exist.

The dream is a suspension bridge, a draw bridge, an old bridge, a bridge made of metal over a river.

I cross the dream river and then my mouth rips off the bridge with my teeth, the bridge screams.

Five The dream gets interrupted because I'm thirsty.

...