I am cleaning people's bad skins in an ancient World War II factory. I have to scrub hard to get rid of all the zits before the owners come to claim their skins in the morning.
Wearing a dressing gown I explore moonlit sand dunes. I come to a dark burrow in the side of a dune. I slip my arm deep inside it and feel around with my hand.
I'm a watermelon and I give cheek to the watermelon torturer. This seems very funny even though he's slicing me into thin wedges.
My footsteps on the carpet turn to bloodstains. When I turn back I can see where I have stepped through the history of many wars.
I am attacked by flying white tadpoles. They thump against my body like balloons filled with wheat. One of the tadpoles penetrates my abdomen. I become pregnant with a miniature pop group that suddenly makes a lot of noise and wants to be born.
In an underground carpark I come across an ocean liner. It's tipped on its end like the Titanic. It's slowly sinking through the floor of the carpark. Tiny survivors swim away in the dark.
Tara and I are separated by a distance of poetry sung by Hilda Hero while massive chop bones protrude from her head.
Manty is chasing me with a vacuum cleaner.
She's going to suck me up.
And dispose of me.