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Description
last night, i dreamt about an office block.
but everything was straight, and grey, and organised,
and nothing was floating, and i couldn't find
the cat in charge or the elephant secretary anywhere.
only people i didn't know, and people i didn't recognise,
and all of them wearing suits,
and no one was a clown, and it was so strange.

and i sat down at a grey cubicle,
and stayed at this grey cubicle, and
the cubicle stayed grey, and straight, and organised.
there was a picture of a woman and a child
on my desk that didn't start moving,
and when i booted up the computer,
it stayed a computer, did not start singing
and pulled up a spreadsheet.

i started filling out the spreadsheet
with names and numbers, and i was surrounded
by other people in cubicles with spreadsheets
and cups of tea, and no one was speaking,
and everything was static,
and there were no birds, or spaceships,
or giant, twisting doorways anywhere.

and there was a window, but all i could see
was a strange grey building and
a strange blue sky, and everything was so static.

and then i woke up,
in my triangular bed on the purple tree branch
on the second ceramic rocket
of western india-russia, and the birds
were humming mozart and motown,
and breakfast drifted across the room
on a piece of thousand-year-old plastic
to greet me good morning.
and i really want to know how that dream ended,
it was really very strange.

Description
last night, i dreamt about an office block.
but everything was straight, and grey, and organised,
and nothing was floating, and i couldn't find
the cat in charge or the elephant secretary anywhere.
only people i didn't know, and people i didn't recognise,
and all of them wearing suits,
and no one was a clown, and it was so strange.

and i sat down at a grey cubicle,
and stayed at this grey cubicle, and
the cubicle stayed grey, and straight, and organised.
there was a picture of a woman and a child
on my desk that didn't start moving,
and when i booted up the computer,
it stayed a computer, did not start singing
and pulled up a spreadsheet.

i started filling out the spreadsheet
with names and numbers, and i was surrounded
by other people in cubicles with spreadsheets
and cups of tea, and no one was speaking,
and everything was static,
and there were no birds, or spaceships,
or giant, twisting doorways anywhere.

and there was a window, but all i could see
was a strange grey building and
a strange blue sky, and everything was so static.

and then i woke up,
in my triangular bed on the purple tree branch
on the second ceramic rocket
of western india-russia, and the birds
were humming mozart and motown,
and breakfast drifted across the room
on a piece of thousand-year-old plastic
to greet me good morning.
and i really want to know how that dream ended,
it was really very strange.