in the dream

from a cloud of auto-replicating cascading thyme-wreathe halos a small furry child looked up at me i broke off my hand and proffered it i had very tall and very optically complicated sunglasses i was moving through the bookstore seeking the huawgum boother a new animal
back in the collective studio the earthmovers had come alive but were sleeping sloppy brick cairns rise up in coral agonies i have discussed what i heard with the controller and she has assured me the earthmovers are not alive but that i have broken into huawgum territory
with my cairning in this part of the bookstore paper mummies dream on the racks each
with its chest scarab mumbling and humming thyme moves ceaselessly its tentacles
moving the hairy children to their desks and in the long and meandering hallway between the bookstore and studio the headless telescopic torso sockets are disquieted and piles of discarded hands mewl in the dim ambiguous light