In my dream I learn that a cult designer of the Sixties is now involved in making a new shop in the village.

In my dream a back yard is a tangle of space and feeling.

In my dream S and I are walking down a shopping street in the Mission. Each alcove is stuffed with things I want, like pants, since I’m not wearing any. S has his dog with him, who is cute but also running around off the leash and I can hear someone trying to lure her across the street.

In my dream the narrow garage bins are lined up around the corner from the breakfast counter.

In my dream I’m rushing around Amsterdam Avenue so that I can get to a kink event in DC when I look at the beautiful day and say fuck it, I’ll stay here, thereby saving myself a couple of thousand dollars.

In my dream I try to back track to where everything was dropped. The boxes on the loading dock were once stacked but now they list into chaos.

In my dream I cross upper Market Street to buy a pen from a new variety store on the second floor.

In my dream the green is deep and murky. The bad feeling overtakes us.

In my dream I search until I find the tobacco dealer at the front of the crowded market. I wanted a cigar, but I see that he might have  cheap pipes and an English blend for sale. The policy is that you smoke back in the store and then pay on the way out.

In my dream the student tells me that she and the other students think that my work isn’t very good.

In my dream I pull back a drop cloth and find that the apartment has a full workroom where the occupant has been making bulbous green glass sculptures.

In my dream an idea hits me as I stand on the wooden floor of the Park Avenue Armory: a massive volleyball game, one hundred players on each side. It will be a perfect activity for all of us, post collapse.

In my dream she is serving behind the bar, twice.

In my dream he is pushing about in a faded apron and with two stubby pigtails in his hair so I make him sing a bit of “The Worst Pies in London”.

In my dream she hikes up her vinyl skirt and winks so I lean forward and plant a kiss on her right ass cheek, to her amusement.

In my dream she says “Be careful! The Academy knows what you were doing with the Peggl”, alluding to a scrawled word game. Annoyed, I say “It was my birthday. We were messing around!”. It’s only later that I wish that I had asked how they knew.

In my dream I thought it was a cute cricket to capture, but it was a stinkbug. Only one of the three elevators went up to my floor.

In my dream we are all in on it. Everyone is going to read something at the event, but only a few of us are going off to hide the body. The seafood buffet is crammed with roe, shellfish, and greasy filets piled above head height and doused in garish cream sauces. There’s barely room to walk and a fight is breaking out.