Dreamed 2009/2/28 by Wayan; Dreamverse #42
I was on Market Street, riding in a car,
when out of the subway stairwell boiled
a horde of dwarves deformed. They spilled
into the crosswalk. Suits all paused, appalled.
Bodies flopped astray, faces fish-gaped, vague,
retarded. Nurses darted, shaping a column,
shepherding their charges, sheepdog-solemn.
Now one obese dwarf, tantrum red,
These cross walkers are stars! Red
And then I'm jabbed awake by a man
sitting on my bed. I reach for pen--
he pokes me 'playfully' again. I snarl
"I'm writing star-dreams. Go away!"
But he pinches and distracts--
until, enraged, I jab him back,
claw his nose. Too late now. Lost.
I know there was a sexy bit
with a girl I wanted to date--
But only that hefty dwarf is left.
Hey burglar, thanks a lot!
I wake again. Now SIX invaders all
And I wake again, with just a critique
NOTES IN THE MORNING
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