It occurs to me that perhaps the order we count on so much is really a figment. The images swim (like the coot) through my dreams, and my brain strives to make sense of them. There is probably gift to be found in disorder, in the chaos of a house undone. There are branches piled on the grass next to the street. They were cleared by a man in need of money who returns about once a year. It is a two-part job, for which he has been paid in part. The rest comes when he finishes. He is supposed to return today. It is one more uncertainty on the plate.
I dreamed a lot
Last night.
We moved to a new place.
It was completely re-done
Pristine.
I walked out the door.
Now it seems we live on the waterfront.
The
biggest coot
I
have ever seen
Was
swimming
In
front of the house.
A
Target superstore
Was
directly behind
The
house.
My
sister was in charge of sales.
She
was front and center
Arranging
clothes on a display
Dressed
in alb and stole.
It
seems my world
Is
being
Re-arranged.
Completely
Re-rearranged.
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