Electric Dreams

Building a machine inside a machine.

In a room that is not a room.

A loom without threads, or maybe the threads are

A room where the floorboards have names written on

The room is darker than it should be.

The room is filling with sand.

A room filling with sand from the ceiling joints.

A week of holding still.

A house inside me keeps changing its number of

A room where the shelves keep rearranging

A room full of clocks but none of them show the

The room had a second door now, but when I opened

A room that keeps building additions onto itself.

Seven floors and none of them finished.

A corridor stretches and I am walking it, or being

A lantern that is not mine and never goes out sits

A ladder stretches between rooms I cannot name.

A machine inside a machine.

A river runs through the Lantern Room.