twiddle the toe
and sit upright
on a couch black
slept through the night
had a dream
about a field
with a child
completely unreal
mine had college
and friends from school
the girl from cosby
and some indian fool
the song was mccartney
the place was weird
the people knew me
i had no beard
woke up and said
how it went
anita smiled
smelled her scent
box is black
carton red
tin is blue
we came from bed
cereal goes
down the hatch
clothes are ready
dirty carpet patch
songs are written
ideas come
we plan trips
alongside bread crumbs
songs are making
muscles relax
as i ponder having
a breackfast snack
time are good
but also hard
sometimes its difficult
to let down my guard
she gets up
goes to laptop
id love to be
on an icelandic hilltop
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