Time and Typewriters

last night I dreamt I moved into a new apartment

large and sprawling labyrinthine design

with white walls and wooden furniture

dilapidated

papers strewn paint peeling

i entered off the street

in the dead of night

surrounded by nameless people who didn’t acknowledge me

I recall a writing desk with what at first glace appeared to be a typewriter

upon closer inspection

i identified it as a clock

i felt a deep sorrow at this discovery

then sat on the floor

wallowing in thick pudding sadness

yellow light flickering

glancing back and forth at doorways

that led to rooms i hadn’t been before