greets the dream-drunk fool.
Sleep's been thrashed thoroughly.
Crowds of careening clownish, cartoons
populated the place-
some blown about by rash winds,
others abruptly absorbed by
quaking, liquefacted lands.
Consciousness gurgles up
through slumber's
punctured, enveloping membrane,
leaves him groping, grimacing
graceless toward
where the windmills whir.
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