My left arm, disembodied, slowly rejoins the mothership
Searching for adverbs, unsuccessful as ever
Distant aches filed for future reference
Blur, wash, smudged light chinks overpainting
Eyes that shouldn’t be open quickly close
And re-enter that censored dream again, the one with the
And the two naked women standing oddly, reading telegrams
“ABACTOR ABLATIVE” says one. The other:
The room fills with water and light and shouts from the trapped
I look down at my ticket: Third Class, yet again.
And I realise that I am awake.