Fever Dreams
I was thinking in sepia tones.
A few others were thrown in like spice.
I deliberated clothes for the longest time.
What did they mean, are were they neccesary?
How much cover up was really neccesary to not be lude?
I looked in the eyes of a WWII Nazi soldier and I wondered.
He stared back so blank.
I walked through this brown flood water and became covered then uncovered.
I saw this stack of books. All Sepia tones. All works of Noel Coward.
I knew I would have to read them all. And I sighed.
And when I did awake, I knew I would have to read them all and I sighed.
Here we go again.
I don’t even really like Noel Coward. Yet.
AND UNRELATED:
Here is some newness:
Add comment March 27th, 2008