Like Vellum

I dreamt last night in mixed media:

Inert figures told long
convoluted narratives
with Shyamalanian twists
and cliffhanger endings

Images had the resonance of 4D
slime cinema (spiders on my feet
and olfactory sensations and
spittle in my face)

Repressed memories pulsated
in the uncanny preimpressionist
postrealism of Manet

Artists are bridges
and I try in vain
to build one over a valley
that grows deeper by the day