There was a poetry bar. It was on a side street, a street full of places just like it, but they all had blank walls--except for the poetry center age-old times. It had one drawing--like illuminated monk's calligraphy drawings of a big ampersand. In the center of the left wall. The other walls were blank. Things happened there after midnight. In the daytime the place was empty. Alex came in. He had 2 dogs. Big dogs--medium and pretty and strong. They were male dogs and he said he would come back in 6 months when my dog was in heat so they could have puppies. I thought he should have checked to see if the girl dog was interested in the boy dog. There were different days of the week to have certain kinds of soup. But there were only 5 kinds of soup for 7 days. 2 days were repeats. I was in a glassed-in room. I had an e-mail. It was from Roseanne. I had sent her an email with a cartoon I made--but when I tried to pull it up--all I got was directions on how to make condensed soup. There was a big bowl of stiff meringue. 2 bowls with stiff peaks. So stiff you could sit things on top of them. Then in a 3rd bowlmy father showed me how my mother made flowers with individual petals from meringue so strong you could build a well with them. The meringue looked like Styrofoam. The petals were much stronger than they looked.