In my dream I trudge through downtown.

In my dream there is a ukulele shaped like a dulcimer with a bolt-on neck. I regret having opened its box as the evening draws on. The other people go.

In my dream the sky is filled with black coal dust that boils across the horizon while smaller clouds detonate in sequence.

In my dream: painted black signs that I always return to.

In my dream the 3-D comic sits on the table, complete with flattened glasses and instructions.

Here’s a picture of me in a university washroom as part of a performance festival in Eindhoven, Netherlands in 1999. Along with the bunny costume, I had a walkman with two headsets and would dance with people while we both wore the headsets at various places on the campus.

In my dream the yard is full of guarded talk.

In my dream it’s a year later and we go out back to pull a chestnut off of the tree.

In my dream I’m at some public event and happen to be walking alongside Linda MacMahon so I begin berating her about how sho should be ashamed of her attempts to dismantle the Department of Education, I’m telling her I’m an educator  and that it’s despicable as we both walk along, while I gauge my tone and body language so as not to provoke her security squad.

In my dream the mouse is back, so I chuck a brass lock across the floor to try to kill it.

In my dream the staff evaluation room has a glossy black floor and walls.