Away I found myself
Foreign country of patches
Surrounded by memories
In a nightcolored dream basin
I found myself

Wise man said: See
Carrying a ghost in his backpack
From voltgreen life fiber
Freezing marble in the dream basin

Accountants sitting at the edges
Bolt upright rows of wooden chairs
Silently writing on sheets
Incessantly in a hailstorm
I was studying them underwater
Followed their actions with my eyes
Like a toddler learning to walk
When the hailstorm was ending
Promptly superseded by the sun

The accountants melting into shadows
Souls were drifting in the dream basin

Sparkling as diamond's ledges
I was not scared of the souls
So I ate them up

To come into the world as a poem
Of a dream basin and accountants
Who became beasts
In another life
From the blood of a dead cat
In the ninth life