I dreamed of a man babbling in my face volubly about politics, saying he was a plastic envelope that was full of black liquid, syrupy like oil, being readied to be poured out over all the world.... then I sre s d d amed ov f f vintage table knives, those with cream bakelite handles: these had blades fash- iones d d d from fine brown snakeskin. I woke.