Trying to get my backlogged work caught
Up I suddenly couldn't find my office door.
Eleven pig noses sprout from my feet
And a jungle of vines manifests itself on the walls
As peacocks in tap dance suits
Hop across the wall.
And with a quick hint of annoyance I
Realize that this is a misdirected delivery from some
Mail-order hallucination company.
I must write a letter of complaint,
If I ever come back to reality;
For you see,
Sometimes people don't.
Copyright © 2003 by H. Van Sherwood