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


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.