Well, I forgot to put flowers under my pillow. I dreamt that I was in a large classroom full of people sitting “Indian-style on the rug” in a circle. There were two large white birds with long, gramophone-shaped tails. The tails had an intricate Fibonacci pattern of white and pale orange feathers with an occasional pink feather. Pierre Joris, who in the dream was a renowned physicist, disagreed with me that the tail feathers were similar in purpose to those of a peacock. I told him he was daft, which in reality I would never say to Pierre because he is wonderful (well, if I think he is wonderful maybe he is a bit daft). A girl I knew in high school then tried to prove that Pierre was right, but all of her arguments were circular. I yelled at her, she started to cry, and one of the other students called me Beezlebub. That part was not much different from high school.
Then I dreamt that Reb Livingston and I started a boxcar cafe. We were hell-bent on getting a liquor license.