(05/21/01)["Poetry meeting costs too much."] I am in a rec room or meeting room with a few people. We are the few remaining members of some club. Maybe a dream club or a poetry club. We are trying to figure out why we have so few members left. A man, like Bob van de Castle is there. A woman is seated on a couch. A board member, perhaps. She says she thinks the reason is that we've raised the club dues too high so the cost is prohibitive. People dropped out or lost interest. They decide to drop the fee level so people would be encouraged to come back. I ask Charla and her boyfriend to come read some poetry (dreams?) and then I am taking some trip down a hill "back home" to high school times. I also ask a woman poet if I can use one of her earlier poems to do something with. Maybe add a photograph or artistic expression to it. Maybe collaborate with her. She is hesitant. A good looking but aging man (dark Italian) comes up to "me" a beautiful woman in an evening dress and professes his life long love for me from many years past. He hugs me and still adores me.