Mr. M is at his window. We are naming the sky again. Chipmunk snowfall, neuron tree branches and white canvas over a dust cloud of morning blue. I’ve been pushing the baroque into my sentences.
Mr. M is gone. He hopped away like a cat. A three sequence dream:
1. A bookstore : a robot voice names off the titles while a red laser scans the books on display.
2. I’m using my best Oscar Madison accent to imitate Lou Reed’s speaking voice. “Now, it’s garbage. ”
3. A lady is going to have a baby.I’m helping with the delivery. Both the mother and I are sickened from blood and guts.