Last night's dream (a fragment):



In which I, the author, encounter a strangely philosophical Rolling Stone.

I was working at a motel where Mick Jagger happened to be staying. Something got into his garbage during the night, so I was helping him pick it up and re-bag it. As we were rooting through his detritus, Mick holds a handful thoughtfully and said, “Maybe people like us don’t HAVE garbage…we ARE garbage.” I then told him about Robyn Hitchcock’s song, “Trash”, and sang him a few bars. Mick asked, “Do you think he’s being metaphorical?” “No, Mick,” I said. “I really don’t think so.” “Well,” he said, “I like that bit about Brian, anyway.”

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