Paul Goodman

“Dreams Are the Royal Road to the Unconscious” —Freud The King’s Highway to the Dare-Not-Know —but I beg my rides and oh I know these boring roads where hundreds and hundreds of cars fade by in hundred-hundreds of flashing windows too bright too fast to see my face. I am steadfast long hours o’ the morning, I am so sad. An old-time trap, an ancient sad horse and his farmer stop by the way, they’ll take me one mile on my way —out of my way—is this the Way? I used to think I used to be happy, but is it possible to be happy? What is it like?—like Plato oh we’ll copy it at large and oh plan a city where all the distances (where? where?) are walking distances. June 1947