I had a weird dream that I met Sylvia Plath in some underground cave of water and she was showing me how to get to some land.

In my dream I was hypergraphia hypergraphia hypergraphia--wrote long pythons / nylons. I would write for 24 hours as an experiment that paraded as a joke.

All of the books on my bookshelf were empty. Blank pages fluttering like birds.

You walk into an elevator and exit
completely different.

You erase R erased.