sometimes your tongue is stuck to the floor
and its all you can do to lick at nothing
no insight tumbling from your lips
and then a dream reappears, like magic;
Last night,
I was in a Russian bar drinking lager
then on a train, still Russian,
talking in sign language to two old Russian grandmothers
And then,
something was stolen, and my companion,
some kind of James Bond,  
it was his fault the thing, whatever it was,
got stolen! How superior was I in that moment.