I had a weird dream this morning.
I woke up dreaming that I was in a market in an abandoned greenhouse. People were sitting on bleachers inside, and setting off small fireworks. The fireworks started to get out of control, as there was no supervision or structure to the process. It was a free-for-all, and everybody was going nuts. Some fireworks started exploding underneath my seat, so I left to avoid amputation. I wandered outside, and there were Mexican migrant workers in the fields. There were two little girls, about 4 and 5 years old. They belonged to one of the men in the fields, and had no mother. I caught them trying to steal toys from a big round bin outside. I talked to them for a long time about how growing up sucks, and how stealing is bad. Their father came over and shooed me away. He was a good guy, just stressed out and beat from working so hard. He didn't want stange gringos talking to his kids. I can understand that. The little girls ran away, but kept coming back to run in circles around me, laughing. They liked me anyway. Abruptly, it was time for the workers to pick up and move on. The father came over with their few belongings, and threw them onto the bed of an old pick-up, calling te girls over. The girls were suddenly quiet, disappointed. They'd been through this countless times. An old woman, who had been observing everything the whole time, and who was the field master's wife, came over and gave the girls each a toy ball. They had been trying to steal them earlier when I caught them. She said that it was a gift, since they had listened to me and put the balls back, to teach them to continue to be honest. The father thanked the old woman, and the girls hugged me around the knees, then hopped into the truck, smiling. The dad gave me a nod and walked to the frontof the truck. Then I woke up.

Yay! It's some more crappy cyber-poetry!

I've always been interested in mixing words and images. Some day, I'll write a comic book that will change the world. Until then, here's a brainfart.