In my dream I can’t bring myself to complete the drawing, or get dressed.

In my dream I’m in the garden for a few minutes  before it becomes clear that I’m there for a trial before the academic council and will probably be fired.

In my dream I cut a slice off of the loaf, spread it with butter and change the record with my tentacle. I’ve been sleeping in the snow in a borrowed silk robe. I may have got shit on the hem.

In my dream the focus shifts from one to the other of them.

In my dream a charlatan drives a tank into a public celebration on 96th street and loudly decides not to detonate it, to prove how benevolent he is. I am disgusted.

In my dream I’m talking to a young pediatrician who is ready to leave the area. It’s night on the bridge.

In my dream I hear two words: pebble egg.

In my dream I hastily hand off the order to the state troopers. Later I realize that it was someone else’s nachos, and not the burrito they ordered.

In my dream we go through all three stories in the early evening. The fruit sellers are there.

In my dream I can’t stop my teeth from chattering.

In my dream we are counting up the survivors in the yard.

In my dream I put my backpack down next to the vendor’s stand and when I come back across the street he has packed up and vanished into a doorway, taking it with him. In quiet panic I track him through an office building and retrieve it.