dream of a future memory

i have this dream of a future memory
where i am on a suburban street at dusk
and i'm a middle aged man
with sweat and dirt dripping down
like a polluted river
i am wailing with a sledgehammer
on my new laptop and my iPhone
scratches of shiny metal and plastic are exploding
outward and i have gashes over my arms and hands
from where the shards have nicked me &
the mothers are covering their children's eyes
as they stand on their emerald 1960's lawns
you just see their gleaming engagement rings
and slender fingers as eyes, and then the
little black egg of the kid's open mouth
and i wont stop until there is just a puddle
of silver glitter over the smooth black tar
but then every single thing that i have ever written
is also in the street
in tall surrealist stacks of yellowing paper
and I am pouring gasoline over the skyscrapers
and the gas is glugging out of the red plastic container
and sloshing slimy rainbows left and right
getting in my hair and into my pores, so everything
is wet and smells like danger
and then i light a whole pack of matches
a little square of fire in my stone palm
and i ignite the giant stacks of paper, which by now
have doubled in size
a giant SUV of paper
and finally there is a red bonfire the size of a house
burning my eyes and glaring
in the middle of quietly trim street
and the mothers are shrieking now and running
in to call the police.
i throw in my big metal watch which is ticking loudly in my ear
and then i understand why i still feel angry
so i jump in.