sifting through the red tape of my lucid dreams

As I fill the folds of my weathered neck with baby field greens, I spy an opening in the human resources department of my soul. I send in my resume and get called in immediately for an interview. The interview goes well, and pretty soon I’m told that I’m overqualified for the position. As frantically as I know how, I just miss explaining the fact that the position wouldn’t even be available if it wasn’t for me. The double meaning makes me laugh and the tension is traded in for a bucket of handlebars. The entire staff of my body hop on their unicycles and pretend the handlebars are connected. Oddly, I don’t see a thing but I am provided with all the forms, signed in triplicate and notarized by Dr. Penguin, a most respected figment of my embellishment.