I have written a song being sung by Leonard Cohen. We travel incognito, a bunch of “circus acts”, on freeways without destination. That’s the song’s import. The rhythm is like Earth, Wind, and Fire. It’s Track 7 of his posthumous album and a finger keeps reaching up to click the CD back to 7. Melissa Clark and other Facebook friends say this is a favourite song but when I wake up the only line I can remember is “it’s a star-eyed dream”. The Christmas tree is still at the window. I have to return to January housecleaning after my siesta.