The residue of what you think / who you are / what’s wrong with you
weasels its way into seemingly disconnected images.
These images live quietly, minding their own business, in your head.
Sometimes they get louder in your dreams—often waking you up, disoriented.
Sometimes they force themselves upon what you see while awake.
Mostly it happens in twilight, or while driving after sundown;
Sometimes even in plain daylight.
Like that overturned car, that collapsing building, those capsized ships . . .
Never mind: false alarm.