In my dream I’m going through all of the collages, handouts, zines and ephemera I’ve gotten over the past couple of days. I put the good stuff in a small bundle. This dress doesn’t  have pockets. I missed out on the short rib at the buffet earlier.

In my dream I catch two different guy’s hands in my pockets lifting cash. New Jersey is tougher to walk through at night than I thought.

In my dream the windows of the antique shop glow in the orange morning light. The streets leading down to Market are slowly filling.

In my dream the meat arrives.

In my dream I shuffle. My stomach is missing.

In my dream the late night gatherings in the glass fronted corridors are turning orgiastic as I walk through. All my planners have been stolen and steam is spilling out from somewhere.

In my dream we are reviewing admissions applications as night falls.

In my dream I hear someone say “That’s a wrap on her”.

In my dream I direct the six of them to correct the placement of packages wrapped in yellow. Everyone moves in concert in the dark room .

In my dream I find a corridor with smooth walls and black corners.

In my dream we are invited to dinner at an embassy only to arrive for the announcement of a coup. We laugh it off until it becomes clear that we need to escape the increasingly brutal building. Every room is now an abattoir.

In my dream a slice of orange colored light makes us quiet down.

In my dream we are building out two rooms and I am looking at the one with the white paper covering the boxes. They need stacking.

In my dream a child pulls itself around a space trying to learn how to walk.

In my dream the food is so scarce that I wonder if we are supposed to eat the bugs that twitch in the corners of the cabinets.

In my dream the struggle is to find out where the line begins in a room full of tension.

In my dream the elevator only holds two and opens directly on the various apartments, where people are just waking up.

In my dream a game piece moves across the board like an inquisitive animal.

In my dream a couple asks me to distribute their independently printed comic book. I decide that I’m going to spend the rest of my vacation in the upper Castro and go to hand them a bag of miniature oysters I’ve had around as a way to seal the deal, except I see that a gray wispy mold has grown over the package, which means the oysters are off .

In my dream I am slowly arranging the type on a cream colored board.