November 3

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Typical, to dream of buying a lotto ticket,
then to wake before scratching

the silver foil off, too busy trying
to find where I parked my dream-car,

anxious, dream-late to a dream-place.
Something exciting will happen soon,

but nothing much will come of it,
again, dreams only reflections

(or projections?) of the real;
forgotten ticket in bag,

I wandered wooded streets,
the neighborhood coming unfixed

whenever I turned my back,
whole roads replaced, trees

growing menacing, fences sprung up–
and I stayed lost until I woke.

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