i dreamed of fleeing unknown pursuers, as i sat on top of tiny bullet trains that wove through the cobblestone streets of an anonymous latin american city.
last night i dreamed that i found $5 in a camus book on a train and paid it to fidel castro for my fare.
last night my dreams of home and warm food were fueled by cold pizza and a slice of muenster cheese broken into 4 pieces.
today i woke up with a hangover.
1 comment:
:: big pot of steaming soup ::
:: large loaf of garlic bread ::
:: bottle of wine ::
:: thick slice of bovine steak dripping juices and salt ::
:: summer dress ::
at home... what madnesses are.
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