The Sleepwalkers Would Walk All Over You

The sleepwalkers would walk all over you if you got in their way they don’t even really see you they might seem to but they’d happily go through you for a short-cut they’re lost in their own private worlds I notice that I’m choking on the acrid fumes like burning plastic that are drifting in from the street the dreamwalkers don’t seem to notice the filthy stink of entropy that hangs so rank and so heavy in the air it’s all I can do not to throw up but the dreamwalkers don’t care though they are too engrossed in the richly pungent meal in front of them chatting gaily to each other as they fork tasty morsels of the richly savoury food into their red-raw mouths as they gesticulate illustrating and emphasizing the various points that they are presumably making the melodious tinkle of the piano keys in the background the murmur of a dozen different conversations going on all around me it’s all part of the richly-textured tapestry of sounds high notes and low notes deep grumbles and groans intermixed with shrill expostulations of delight a waterfall of sound a cascade of multi-toned organ notes it’s happening all around me a richly embroidered tapestry of voices I can no longer make out any individual words in the torrent I don’t know what any of it means whistles and whoops gasps and giggles murmurs and moans I’m here I think but I don’t know what anything means I don’t know what anyone is saying I don’t know where I end and it begins there is this constant seething movement going on some movements fast and urgent others slow and leisurely I feel light-headed I feel like I’m in a dream there’s no telling where the dream ends and I begin little wavelets of sensory impressions are lapping softly all around the  little island on which I stand an azure sea stretching off to infinity in all directions the soft lapping of the waves eroding the sand from under my feet the last bit of remaining ground is being pulled away from me what kind of a dream is this I wonder how many types of dreams there are or is it all the same dream I ordered the meal from the waiter but when it arrived it immediately started eating me and I realize that it’s all happening the wrong way around there’s no way of knowing what’s going on around here the waiters won’t tell you a thing it was never meant to make any sense the voice in my head told me only I don’t have a head anymore and the voice was never really there either it was only part of a play of possibilities a trick of the light the waves splashing gently but so very persistently on my ankles and all around me the sleepwalkers are enthusiastically forking savoury morsels of the richly-succulent dream into their eagerly gaping mouths

 

 

 

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