This morning, as I was waking up
from sweet dreams,
I discovered that in my bed I had been changed into a tiny insect and now was sitting on my glasses reading Kafka's Verwandlung: One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up
from anxious dreams, he
that in his bed he had been changed
into a monstrous verminous bug.
He lay on his armour-hard back and saw, as he lifted his head up a little,
his brown, arched abdomen divided up
into rigid bow-like sections.
From this height the blanket, just about ready
slide off completely, could hardly stay in place.
His numerous legs,
pitifully thin in comparison
to the rest of his circumference,
helplessly before his eyes. “What’s happened to me,” he
It was no dream.