I dreamt a piece of
bad poetry. At about 9:00 AM I became aware that I was dreaming. I don't know why the poem dealt with the subject of
cocaine, but it did. The abominable drivel went something like this:
Buy her a bike
Created by and bleached with
Cocaine
Send her with a mouse
To the station
You'll never know all about cocation
I am ashamed that my mind created this. I need to get it off my chest. This is my reconciliation.