I had my breakfast on a giant tooth, one of many that lined the mouth my wife and I were living in - we found it cold when it yawned and too hot when it chewed gum.  A bit later in the bootstrap morning I was spit out to try and pick up the pieces in the garden - I noticed a number of hand prints under the window.  After leaning all the old people against a wall I ran behind a herd of cows that had stampeded down the main road. The evening was empty like a vase before the flowers had been dropped in.

I walked the cobweb path before seven.  Eight cows walked along the ridge discussing philosophy, I thought about everyday things.  I walked into the jungle where the "Old Man of the Jungle" was burning cakes.  I put my Viking helmet in the grate and wandered along the beach where ancient animal bones were washed up into huge piles.  The "Old man of the Sea" and I talked about tables and chairs before I came home.  When I had returned to the nuclear fallout shelter I noticed that June had left a note.

I started the day as one of many riders in the local slug race - unfortunately my mount came last although this did give me the opportunity to build a model railway on a neighbouring snail shell.  I spent time in my studio suspended on bell ropes, bobbing up and down as the faithful were called to prayer.  I took the guinea pig to the vets in between verses.  It was while I painted myself a fur coat that I noticed a bridge was growing on my shoulders spanning several streams and a crumpled up newspaper.

The green lady slammed the door shut as I entertained an octopus in our bedroom.  I got up in stages with both arms and a leg going downstairs some time before the rest of my body.  The Statue of Liberty wasn't home so I went out in the garden to count drain pipes - noticing as I did so a man stuck half way down trying to remove his tie.  I played the grand piano round my midriff as the roof came off one house and climbed on top another.  I then made a note to remove the rabbit from the coffee percolator.

I woke up on my own, although half a dozen plastic mannequins were leaning against the wall waiting for their first coat of paint.  After breakfast I went to hibernate at the bottom of the garden pond until June came home riding on a baguette.  Once I had checked the lily was OK I hid in the shed among the various lengths of timber hoping that some would assemble themselves into a new chest of drawers.  I finished the day with a railway track wrapped round my neck and steam issuing from my half open mouth.

I made a telephone call as the morning developed a large crack with a bright light shining through - I ate bright pink porridge as the chariots raced overhead.  I put my trumpet in my back pocket (which was reciting passages from The King James Bible totally independent of me) and trucked my way to Tim to ask him to stuff a little man in my other pocket.  It was struck dumb so I came home to lay down on a railway track.  Luckily the driver saw me in time and only ran over the many foot soldiers of King Darius.

I jumped up as the day jumped up.  I only had a little time in the upturned kettle I call my home but managed to nail an item of clothing from every year of my life onto the spare wall before my wife returned riding a purple dragon.  Luckily the giant beast wouldn't fit inside although I did prepare an Ordnance Survey map of its entire dorsal area.  Later we walked the dog under the arch where several people raised their glasses to the sunset before laying them down for ever.

I went out as the flag was raised beyond the half way point; black birds were keeping white one company on the grey wires.  I followed the cords and found Theseus resting in his den.  We talked about mysteriously disappearing islands as a belly dancing paratrooper dug the garden.  I counted the worms in his bucket before catching a dragonfly home.  Once home I burrowed into a hot cross bun and decorated the Christian catacombs with a brand new range of flying fish motif wallpaper.

I felt depressed as I woke up in a bucket.  Finding holes in my jeans which matched the holes in the skirting board I followed the semitransparent limousine with my tape measure in my hand.  The beanpole girl came after me wearing two gloves on one hand and none on the other.  We weighed the dog before entering the space rocket which was still smouldering from last time.  I walked to the house on stilts in a bad mood, had a bath in a wine glass, and came home with the moon in my hair.

I started the day half the way down a precipitous slope, nervously groping about as the grey cloud dissipated.  I saw figures with burning hands pouring water into ornamental picture frames and chairs with spaces where the old men sit.  After I had collected up the straws I was clutching I walked June to town as albino frogs rained down (each with a bright red bow tie).  We scanned the horizon for a vision - June looked for Little Red Riding Hood while I watched for a sheep in a wolf's clothing.

I had a few grains of sand to myself and orbited a jam doughnut.  On my thirteenth revolution I noticed a message strung behind one of the biplanes previously found in the eye of King  Kong.  Following the instructions on the side of the packet we went to dinner at the sheep skull palace and watched the little 1princess dance.  Sadly I had to leave the party early for a period of isolation.  I watched satellites race overhead as the vulture wings rustled in anticipation of the ship coming out of a bottle.

I had to go out to open the door for the dentist.  After a short period of random motion I sat on a tooth chair and threw money into the air - blood was turned into wine and I raised my glass to empty space.  I hid my six gun in my sandwich box and waited for the posse to arrive.  During my escape I cast several long shadows, a couple of which had an independent existence, and came home via the Grand Canyon.  After pulling myself ashore from the Red Sea, June and I walked our dog behind the bike sheds.

I awoke on a starfish, one of its suckers sticking in my ear - a red ribbon dangled from empty space.  A sea urchin rang and I answered it - I caught the ribbon and changed it to a page of Japanese writing.  Having read all my mail I went out into the garden; not noticing that a tree was growing from my head were the third eye would have been.  After the rain had risen up from the earth I made an automobile from an old apple and drove of in it; the banana sirens blazing.  I spent the evening in solitary confinement.

I poured my early morning porridge over my head instead of sinking into it and then decided to have a game of musical chairs be myself.  One chair had a strange pattern engraved on it which altered when I sat on it;  I thought about a new range of elfin hats as I slowly sank through the chair into the strange realms of a hidden universe.  Fifteen voices said the same thing as I slammed the door shut and stampeded to work - the cowboys ran up towards me followed by rampaging milk bottle.

Out early, carefully crawling under the crack where the door doesn't quite reach the floor.  Behind the door I found hundreds of smiling faces.  On top of one face an old man sat, a circle of living organisms surrounding him.  I plucked sand from the vial and interrogated it.  It didn't talk but the wings of Hermes grew from my forehead (as well as plastic model of Moby Dick resurrected as a nursing home).  Once home I walked the dog to the site of a renowned giant toadstool.

June went out about midday, travelling down a wormhole dressed in volcanic ash and the remains of various occupants of Herculaneum.  I took the opportunity of turning myself inside out and making friends with the leader of the glove puppets who had been terrorising the townspeople in late Tudor times.  My wife returned as the queen ant just as I was sticking a camera in my pocket.  We exchanged information and cat litter before deciding to take the dog along the small path beside the railway line.

I spent the morning among a tray of coloured balls, most with either a number or a name.  I was the ashen faced photographed always pictured at the edge of the scene holding a lead with no dog attached.  After the clockwork mice had evolved into a race of battery powered grandfather clocks I wrote my name in the steam over the mantelpiece - just above a modest collection of ancestral skulls, each with a written motto and piece of cotton pulled from an old pair of jeans.

I had a very long boa constrictor day in the garden - being careful it didn't wind itself around my neck.  My wife (who was temporarily two dimensional) was out all morning; her arm stuck down an elderly person's lavatory - twice she accidentally delivered a baby animal.  I laboured in the sun basking in the childhood memories of a house made from old string vests and cotton wool trees that talked to each other after all the children had taken their Wellington boots off.

I was slightly surprised to find I had grown a third arm during the night.  I pushed a screwdriver into its hand and went in search of a box - June was a shadow on the edge of the real world.  After spinning round as I rose out of a pile of ladies jewellery I decided to assemble a model of a Nineteen Fifties country village (complete with ladders set against open windows).  I knocked on every door and then walked to work along the rim of the Grand canyon holding a bald headed eagle chick in my fifteen fingers.

The sun was beating a toy drum as I tied my imaginary golden locks to the window and climbed down.  I sailed across the surface of a silent lake waiting for the drum sticks to fall as the marching band set forth.  My head was nearly bald and reflected faces of long gone people - not all of whom I had met. For the first time in over a week I was able to float in the spaces of my studio.  I worked on a landscape draped across the chest of a young woman.  I was happy at this point to find an old toffee in my pocket.

I felt tired today; having woken up hanging from subtropical tree branches instead of lichen.  I swept several species of endangered parrot from my hair and carried myself downstairs accompanied by a fanfare of trumpets sticking out of the forest canopy.  I had a meal on a roundabout,  lined up a number of distinct horizons and then wove them together.  After taking the dog round the perimeter of the prisoner of war camp I pinned my sheriffs badge between my shoulder blades and walked backwards.

I was out early in the morning, flying on a slither of paper.  I fluttered down in the lounge of the gentle space ogre, answered the telephone (it was an empress from a long forgotten country), pulled a piece of string from my pocket and knotted it, then I came home.  A strange green eyed pixie was waiting on the doorstep, we exchanged addresses and then I went to the vet holding a lighted candle for the money burning ceremony.  The dog worked as a plumber in the evening.

I drew several cards from my top pocket - the mast of a small luxury yacht was also sticking out, touching my nose when I bent over to count my toes.  The first card that fell on the table said work so I packed myself up into a briefcase while a hugely oversized arrow penetrated the  house roof.  I spent part of the day standing like a sarsen stone on Salisbury Plain.  The Women's Institute were on manoeuvres with flashes of gun fire visible under raised skirts.  I got in and then went out again.

June was walking on a conveyor belt, gradually speeding up but not actually getting anywhere.  I had a lay in, finally getting up wearing a silver back gorilla suit.  After spending some time painting the grey sky blue I went out in the garden as a puff of light pink smoke.  June rang about midday to see if she could return wrapped up in polythene like a dogfish egg sack.  I put a small light house on top of my head and climbed down a hole until I was flush with the soil surface.

After descending to my subterranean  breakfast parlour I constructed the first meal of the day from miscellaneous pieces of plastic kit.  I then marched out into the garden with the sleeves of my coat several yards longer than necessary.  I decided to man the trenches with bare feet and painted my toenails in rainbow colours.  I came in after not having walked on a pot of gold or indeed any antipersonnel mines laid by female members of the French Resistance during the last war.

I returned the dungeon keys to the gaoler (who, I noticed, had stuffed a lot of recently torn pieces of coloured paper into his mouth - several balloons had been inflated in his coat pockets).  I searched my handbag for a pin but only found a collection of hazel nuts opened by an assortment of different animals.  I had the rest of the day to stand on a ladder and pretend to paint the ceiling - on which could be seen faint marks indicating where to lay the tracks of the Worlds first upside down railway.

I opened the door and said hello not realising that I had numerous rubber bands wound round the top of my head.  June asked if I wanted my hair cut after I had inspected the troops who had assembled outside.  I stuffed as much underwear as I could in the hole of my acoustic guitar -  I could hear the drummer practising outside in a tree and I went back in time approximately forty years and handed John a hanky.  I didn't have to go out so I drilled myself through the carpet into the shallow space below the house.

I managed to stretch right out on a cabbage leaf before handing it to the rabbit - he gave me a partially eaten musical manuscript.  I played my horn all round the ground floor rooms of the house, remembering as I did so the debt I owed to my ancestors - outside clouds were replaced by heads with flying bird eyebrows.  Some of the birds landed on the shed roof, several carried the remnants of primitive dwellings on their backs.  I knocked on a door but no one answered.

I left the house early with butterfly wings; the caterpillar driver held my hand.  I waited in a celestial hall while the echo of my voice circulated - I left when my first hello came back to me.  After finding my shoes hidden in a cloud, along with several teddy bears cross dressed in women's clothes, I carried several burning candles home.  Once I had returned I hid in my pocket with a paintbrush and palette - outside voices were being trapped in tin cans (I suspected that they would eventually be sold).

I sat on a roundabout, only seeing my face reflected in the heavily ornamented mirror every few minutes - each time I came into view I had changed.  After floating in the Sargasso Sea for several hours while eating my breakfast I walked to work pulling a floral patterned cushion and a small piece of the lounge carpet behind me.  I stood all day as my colleague held a chair over his head.  After a number of bells had tolled we walked the dog across the field where the strange ship had landed during the night.

June slammed the door on Quasimodo early in the morning.  I got up later to shake hands with Esmeralda as her statue was positioned in the bird garden.  After the ceremony I jumped on an eagles back and flew to a vast field of chimney pots - I walked between these like Catherine The Great.  In the sunshine I picked up a flower puzzle and attempted to solve it.  While concentrating on this I felt the touch of a long dead cricket commentator - I went to work carrying my bat.

June left our ocean liner by life raft - I thought about throwing myself into the water and becoming an island; later collecting footprints and making ornaments from jetsam.  I finally got up and walked to town in bare feet - raising a number of people from the dead as I did so.  In the garden I potted plants as a crowd of people approached.  About the same time June was washed ashore and we had lunch.  I drunk wine and went out for the afternoon - the sightseers were standing by the gate.

I flew between the planets, pulling up weeds and naming them.  One became a person and we talked for some time - which was getting slower as the sun shone.  Once I had passed Neptune I painted a face on my parachute (this was the only thing I painted all day) and descended through the talking clouds - one cloud told me it went to the seaside and rained on it.  I stayed at home  and watched a very old man pole dance.  I threw several coins into his hat before going out with a parrot on my shoulder.

The Noah's Ark lady knocked the door as June and I were making a new bed out of dragon bones.  The ephemeral people jumped out of the window and I transformed my wife to stone; she walked to town to get her rock hair cut.  I hid under the bed as a giant straw was pushed in the window; while there I noticed that the cats were playing chess - the dog played the drums so I formed a band called the "The Invisibles".  Later a bearded lady walked by carrying a sack  - I sung her a song.

I opened the door as the iceman, slowly thawing on the step as a procession of people made from an unusual sponge cake recipe came in.  I climbed a rope ladder to the crows nest where a family of painted blocks were being photographed for a tabloid newspaper article.  As the flash bulbs popped I casually sank in a bucket of soapy water.  June rushed in dressed as a turkey and we communicated by blowing bubbles I climbed on a giant bubble and floated to work - needless to say it burst when I got there.

Out as the piper suddenly appeared, moving very quickly among the translucent rooms of the wedding cake house.  I communed with the colour bearded person - the last representative of the colour bearded people.  Returning, I sat on a bus propelled by manicured bare feet (I stopped in a deserted oasis to examine my own - they confessed to a number of crimes under interrogation).  I donned a bush costume and walked through several brick walls without feeling a thing.  The dog was a little unwell.

I walked along a network of tunnels, hearing the unmistakable sounds of the minotaur as I did so.  Before the stampede I managed to find a door into the real world and tossed coins in my studio for a few hours - I had to go out when the heads showed.  In the ice palace in the evening I listened to voices and counted forbidden fruit on an abacus as Neptune came in by one door and left by another.  I followed him for a short while before tying a striped tied around the trunk of a tree.

After embracing a slither of wood I had all my hair cut off and stuck it behind several rows of penny black postage stamps.  As all the magic university clocks struck noon my wife's and my shadow walked to the lakes were we picnicked with fairies.  I was lost and found many times; daisies strung round were my hair met the sea.  A number of statues stood impassively when the waves crashed onto the shore like memories of different music concerts all recalled at once.

The sky descended so low that I had to spend the first part of the day crawling underneath it.  I left signs in leaf piles as I brushed the remnants of the natural history lesson aside.  June did the crossword puzzle in the middle of a busy roundabout while I hung from the roof of a train tunnel - the train was late so I refused to clean my room like a teenager.  After putting out the light at the end of the tunnel I jotted down all my chance meetings with overweight people in pink rabbit costumes.

A new working week which I started by wearing pink stockings and a suit of armour comprised of a multitude of Leggo bricks.  I rearranged the furniture a few times before laying a clutch of golden eggs and fighting off a huge crane which was trying to lift the roof off - looking up I thought the ceiling had freckles from sitting too long in the sun.  I finally donned Egyptian clothes and sat in a mausoleum with all my paintings around me.  After several thousand years no one had come.

I spent a lot of my time laying models of flying fish in an array of realistic poses before metamorphosing into a penguin and trying to catch them.  I was disturbed by the shadow of an old friend who had dropped by in lieu of him. We discussed him in his absence as well as other people who had disappeared without trace - I then showed a group of foreign dignitaries the garden.  My friend's shadow later became famous selling giant pieces of litter made from aluminium and painted bronze.

I got out of bed like a child's toy and then had to make up my clothes like a jigsaw puzzle - it goes without saying that one piece was missing.  I ate my breakfast quickly before it changed into a battalion of toy soldiers waiting for deliverance.  There was a crash and I answered the door with a vase of flowers on my head - the delivery man had a stuffed dog on his - only to find that the parcel was not for me. I pushed a note in my pocket and wrote myself another.  The Midget Men sat in a row on the mantelpiece.

Up early and out of the house before the portcullis was fully up with a ventriloquists dummy stuffed under my arm.  I had a gottle of geer with the old demigod in a shady part of Arcadia and then seeing the mouth of a river god I came floating home; the drawbridge was down and a newly arrived seagull was conducting a symphony orchestra on the roof so I got out my magnifying glass and examined the Emperor's new clothes.  I made sure I put the chains back on before retiring to bed.

I had to go to the funeral of a person who was too kind to die - everywhere there was very perplexed faces.  I remembered people and forgot people all at the same time and then walked a line beside trees several hundred years old.  My sister and I walked slowly to the railway station, while the rain came down and the train came in.  I waved goodbye while simultaneously sorting out the darkroom in my head.  I pictured myself disappearing into the distance with my camera in my hand.

I feared the worst as I pulled myself out of the slit in the ground I had been living in.  As the clouds gathered I added up all the sweet wrappings, buttons and rail tickets I found in my pocket before playing cards with old photographs of myself.  I had beaten myself quite a number of time before June came in, her face blackened by artillery fire.  I laid several paintings at the barricades and sat in my tepee in readiness for the General Custer.  A number of Plasticine Red Indians lay squashed in the road.

I wasted the day holding on tight to the flag pole in case the wind got up.  I wrote letters to people who never write to me and played the violin inside a rucksack while the avalanche spilled all over me.  I wrote a last letter in the white page of snow before taping up the box I will jump out of at the mythical creatures surprise party.  Later, June and I made it all the way across the tight rope before realising we had left something the other side.  In my chagrin I stuffed a cushion down my jumper and walked to work.

I opened this week like a treasure chest, finding many things I had thought I had lost.  I spent all my time in the garden playing noughts and crosses with sunshine and rain drops.  While in a giant hat I saw a vision of Joan of Arc and decided to pull out all the road signs I had planted in the borders after we had sold the car.  June came out with a cup of tea balanced on a beach ball; we sat down together and waited for the tide to come in - several jets sailed overhead, spelling nothing in a rather illiterate manner.

Another busy day working among toadstools which had been changed to blocks of flats by a Nineteen Sixties architect.  I pulled tails which had emerged from holes I had made earlier and then planted a necklace and several rows of beads before sitting back and waiting for them to grow.  A TV was flickering in the middle of a leaf so I watched the Life Story of Trees and other memories.  After making a bed out of matches I put a cigarette in each nostril and went to sleep earlier than usual.

I worked in the garden all day like an Eighteenth Century farm hand (my other hand was shaped like a boat with masts instead of fingers).  Marie Antoinette sailed by  as I hung onto branches which communicated with each other by blossom.  Curious why anyone would replace chimney pots with stone owls I floated above the roof tops, hanging from my hat which I had blown up earlier.  Counting houses like abacus beads I remembered the peregrine falcons above the Tate Gallery in London.

I climbed out of the flaky pastry earlier than usual (having spent another night as a sausage roll) and caught a shot gun train into the old fashioned countryside.  The quiet gentleman handed me a slice of cheese on toast, which I sat on before making random holes in the garden.  I found myself in one of the larger holes and both of us returned home by bright red bus.  Putting a scale model of a yacht on one shoulder and a dancing girl made from knitting needles on the other I raced the dog to the vets - I won.

I felt tired after a week of piling up very large stones in the garden.  I got out of the lions den late and poured my breakfast into my T-shirt to save time - shaking out a number of spoons a little later; I was puzzled that I had accumulated so many.  When I went into the living room June was wearing the head of a Siberian hamster - I didn't think it was worth mentioning; although I was surprised when she pulled a number of Chinese rice paddies out of her mouth, strung together like sausages.

We had to take one of our cats, who had eaten a garden gnome, to the vet.  Immediately after this we took a train to the coast to pop balloons and climb on multicoloured bubble and float into the sky - we had a choice of skies and June and I chose one with a quaint chequered pattern.  We had to come home early, only to be held up as a marble column escaped from a statue and stood on the railway line.  I fed the Giacometti birds with short pieces of coloured string.

Another stressful day, the cat that had jumped out of a comic book page was still away and my compass earrings were spinning uncontrollably.  I climbed up to the bridge and studied the footprints that had gone from the floor to the wall and then across the ceiling.  I drew a smily face on the ceiling and then looked down.  The snake bus was transporting a whole variety of forgotten things across the greenhouse floor and I bent down and tied a shoelace on my bare foot.  I didn't tell anyone I had to go out.

I started this bank holiday Monday as a bell hanging high up in the bell tower.  In the distance I could see a landscape made from large dark birds with outstretched wings; perched on a dark grey beak was a small red house - when I was the straw headed man I thought this would have been a nice place to live, chimney smoke forming a question mark at the end of a long day.  I was just lazily thinking about this and of the goldfish swallowing our new postman when the bells started to chime.

I walked (with a limp - I don't know why) through a network of dark tunnels, interrupted at times by rooms made entirely from old newspapers.  I read a newspaper over breakfast before tiring of it and pouring cereal into a paper hat and reading the bowl.   The chimney sweep who used to sleep under the sofa came back with a swollen tummy - I fed her a fish and then clapped like a performing seal.  My wife changed the bed and then put a lighted candle in her mouth.

I woke with a circus playing within the classical architecture of my head.  I represented myself as a small plastic man standing among the audience - I felt I was too baroque and curled my moustache into two tight springs and attached a lonely clock mechanism.  The clock chimed (actually high frequency mice squeaks) eleven times before the plastic man got into his studio to write this.  Meanwhile, the tin man stood on a busy street corner reciting poems he had written while working as a dustbin.

June flitted out the window as a scrap of paper while I crumpled up the morning and threw it in my studio litter bin - the cat was curled up in the corner with a miniature fairy tale castle on its back.  June blew back in the door at dinner time and I spread myself on a slice of bread.  The dog took a tablet and ran down the road; I sailed after her on a balsa wood glider.  We both transformed ourselves into points of blinding light watching all the people with sunglasses on.

I contemplated mortality while resting in a hammock made from old spider webs.  I watched clouds form organic looking hieroglyphics in the warmth of the sky - I read my own name followed by a dragon regurgitating the remnants of a schooner which had been recycled into a holiday let.  I pulled myself to the ground with generations of dead flies stuck to the wings I had borrowed from Pegasus.  I then walked to the hot air labyrinth with my hair smoking and vultures circling overhead.

The sun light shone through the bedroom as if it was trying resurrect a dead sailor from the depths.  I positioned a war damaged Sherman tank between me and the light so I could sleep without blinking.  June got up dressed as a kangaroo and I reluctantly followed with my tail coiled up in my wallet.  I swam in a sea of words while aircraft sailed overhead.  I only had a little time with my hanging collection of toy yachts before being marched to a place of work.  Several eight eyed people were already there.

I started the day clinging to rocket as it sped upwards.  It was almost midday before the bang and gradual fall to earth.  Once landed I sat in the garden combing the hairs on the soles of my feet.  Several known and unknown people walked by holding flowers, some of which were reading newspapers.  I pulled on a pair of bright red flowers in lieu of underpants and borrowed sandals from an old testament prophet who was sitting by the pond.  Once dressed I boarded the submarine and submerged.

We had to take the ark to the mountain in a trial run for the forthcoming deluge.  I tried on a number of polka dot swim suits even though I can't swim; we then trudged back through the rain forest with sloths hanging from artificial eyelashes, camouflaged with algae, and butterflies practising semaphore above the cars of the tribal elders.  I went out into the cerebral oasis as soon as I got back and pottered about the rest of the day - the high priestess pushed a note under the door which I kept to read later.

The day started with a an explosion of sound as my wife June allowed a migrating herd of wildebeest to stamped through her hairdo.  I bent down as a helicopter landed on the exposed section of my underpants - the rabbit had meanwhile invented a pseudonym for himself - and a fully articulated action man doll climbed out.  I thought of my old friend John while the rabbit thought of his new friend Jesus.  The scarecrow man knocked on the door but unfortunately I couldn't remember his real name.

I went out, holding a collection of confiscated military equipment in my school satchel.  Every other person had a clock head as I waited for the bus to arrive - it crawled to a stop with graffiti scrawled on its genuine gold and silver sides.  I straightened my tights and put on a pair of high heeled shoes for the ride to see my old school; which was sheltering in an army assault course.  I planted beans in the magic garden and said hello to the keeper of the wishing well in the garden next door.

I had a less stressful start to the day, even though I had just discovered the flight feathers from a bald headed eagle growing out from behind my ears - I pictured myself with pendulous earrings and then made a plasticine model of Calvary for my Ancient Rome model railway.  After a lunch of vegetarian giant squid I amused the court jester with a game of snap using farmyard animal playing cards.  A row of paintings were drying on the clothes line while I photographed the washing in my studio.

After an early morning of broken pieces of sky showering down, June and I retired to an underground bunker once used by plastic models of Churchill and Alexander the Great.  We ate breakfast and then wallpapered the side of an African Elephant who had ambled by.  The female apparition from the ancient days of Mesopotamia then went to town followed by a four legged shopping bag and a discreet flying telephone.  I ploughed a field on my forehead and then disappeared in my studio.

Another day that didn't go as planned.  I started it tied to a giant centipede scuttling under the dungeon door and through an almost smiling hole in the wall - I thought of stigmata appearing on a bronze statue of Christ as I did so.  One of my imaginary bedfellows was caught in an avalanche and I followed as bubbles emerged from the now silent machine and filled up the space between my memory and the event that triggered it.  I turned the machine on and watched the patterns it made on the wall.

The start of a bad week, my legs doubled in length and I kept a small alien creature (who I called Giacometti) in one of my spare pockets - a collection of space rockets and a stone head of Medusa in another.  I tried all I could to walk along the bandage road, rolling it up in a polar bear ball as I did so.  The situation worsened in the evening when a set of working traffic lights appeared from the carpeted floor.  I considered dripping paint on the carpet like Jackson Pollock but threw paint on the ceiling instead.

I had to get up early to buy a bag of animal medicine which I hid in my conch shell handbag .  I ran back carrying skis which never touched the ground once and then set out again with the dog riding a summer toboggan.  June came along too hidden inside a mobile phone case which I later turned off.  I had very little time to string two lines together but  kept a lot of ideas under my smoke filled hat.  At the end of the day one of the little men died.  I blamed myself even though I was acting for the best.

I woke up in the pyjamas and immediately took my bedroom off.  I rushed downstairs holding a 1 gauge model railway locomotive - June was crawling about the living room floor reciting anaconda poetry so I slipped a Victorian chimney pot over my body and stood as still as I could. We went out to see the hospitalised lorry with a bag of speeding motorcycles and classic cars.  As I went to bed barefoot women in pale clothes walked through the churchyards listening to the music of their long disappeared hearts.

As is the custom of space pilgrims I went out very early.  I was picked up orbiting London and taken to the honeysuckle covered bungalow which itself was forced out of its orbit by the gravitational effect of Jupiter.  I talked to the old god for some time, we discussed Juno, and then we attempted to assemble the flying saucer.  It was only after we had finished that I noticed it was all the wrong way round.  I came home by Seventeen Century ghost car - the rabbit descended a la a deus ex machina.

I spent the morning forming circles in the tar pit that appeared outside the back door, coming inside some time later dressed as Robin Hood.  The dog was dancing a scene from swan lake and the cat had encased himself in a block of ice ready for his trip into space.  I pulled my hat out of the rabbit and went to find my wife.  I had last seen her among a pile of bones from the Pleistocene period and pulled her out still clutching the left femur from a giant ground sloth.  We decided to pose as matching chess pieces.

I was alone in the house quite early, all the diaphanous people emerged from the wall space to serenade me as I dressed myself in a cheap piece of fabric we had recently bought in a sale.  I had been left even and odd jobs which I had to undertake as a medieval jester - the little boy next door fell asleep in my hat which had crawled away after being brought to life by an escaped sorcerer's spell which just happened to be sailing overhead.  I blew a trumpet and several sandwiches with pink legs ran my way.

June went out first thing again so I climbed down the pink mist ladder to the spectral garden where I pulled out lost people from the ancient quagmire and lined up neatly groomed plants into regimental rows.  I had to stop briefly as King Henry the Eighth rode by on a richly decorated war horse.  I wrote a message for him on the table cloth and ran outside holding onto a mermaid I had found in the fish tank.  I managed to pull some more people from the freshly dug earth before marching down the road to work.

I began the day laying on a pool table - twice normal size - and thinking  about unsymmetrical lines cut into the sky above.  After a protracted period stuck to chewing gum on my studio floor (I considered calling it something like "Art Work Number Fifty Nine") I went out for the afternoon with my wife - she was dressed in a bright pink yacht sail and had a couple of fluffy toys in her crows nest.  I called her "The Saucy Sue" and bought myself a pair of trousers and a belt two sizes too big.

There was a loud bang just before the carpet under the double bed woke up and sat preening itself.  I got out of bed wearing stilts and holding onto an almost fully extended tape measure.  The mirror was laying on the bedroom floor and I cautiously approached (trying to remember all had learnt at the first aid course).  I noticed I was wearing a huge hat (with a ruined model of San Marino on the peak) - as I wasn't wearing anything else I covered myself in home made garden compost and went outside.

The hookah smoke descended from a bird shaped hole in the ceiling and I felt as if I was standing behind the broken glass of an antique photo frame.  I climbed out of the battered automobile while June climbed out of her scenic view pyjamas.  She took her camera to town and I removed my shoes and went to get my blood pressure tested.  The nurse was wearing a uniform made from octopus skins and had a swordfish protruding from the centre of her chest - my blood pressure was declared satisfactory.

I crawled up the chimney just as the sun was attempting to enter the house via the window; I escaped with a bag of frozen ready meals and a padlock with a missing key.  After a trek across the dunes of the Sahara I found the old man pretending to be a hairdresser - I put a bag of hedge clippings on my head and went to the water hole.  I came home by submarine cradling a hacksaw given to me by a group of caterpillars..  June wasn't in so I left a note only I could find (the key was still missing).

I stood up on the ski slope after all the snow had gone, tied myself to a tree and waited for the family to sail by in supermarket carrier bags.  I had previously noticed that a hedgerow was growing out of the side of my head and I winced as a stoat shot out trying to catch a rabbit - it ended up with a top hat.  After we had a dance in the still damp sand I measured our foot prints and did a calculation to determine the mass of the sun several billion years ago.  I chilled as the iceman knocked the door.

My wife and I decided to spend a day in the garden - she was dressed as a nun with a replica of a ruined abbey on her head; I was dressed as Henry the Eighth before he gained weight.  Behind our rose covered bed a pendulum swung to and fro, June came out when the sun shone and I emerged in the rain.  After the final storm we both retired to a circular stone house she christened the desert igloo - I had to go to work so she counted camels, making a note of those small enough to go through the eye of a needle.

I talked to the various versions of myself while reclining on a giant paper aeroplane which I had been using as a bed - only some of me replied.  June could be heard in the subway below calling out as the trains sped by.  We both held pictures of extinct animals in our hands; mine from the great age of reptiles, hers from the age of birds which occurred immediately after their demise.  Later I clapped as her more recent avatars modelled the latest fashions for the fuller figure.  She went to bed in a tin of biscuits.

We had to take our pet dinosaur to the vet again so I got up early enough to walk blindfolded along the side of an aeroplane wing.  When we got back in I took the blindfold off and was surprised to find my nose had been landscaped with an informal lake were my mouth had been and a gothic folly placed firmly on my forehead.  I picnicked on my facial features before becoming a paper strip of children and fluttering to work.  I opened the door to be greeted by a number of giant rodents drinking at the bar.

I laid in on a flying saucer as numerous people went up and down the street.  I called the street Horace and tried recollect some of its verse before falling down a wormhole and getting up feeling more tired than when I had gone to bed.  I chastised the giraffe for taking my tie and then borrowed a belt from a rogue elephant who had been terrorising the neighbourhood for years.  I had a free day so I put a pretend face on and tried to recite the alphabet in several different languages at once.

It was an apricot morning and I knelt before the stone to contemplate the endless line of black and white images that had flitted by all night.  A wizened old frog in the garden was later caught by camera trying to open a can of worms - June was riding a pit pony at the very edge of the shot.  I had some time in the coloured sawdust arena before the clowns came to take me to work so I built a village out of small plastic bricks and imagined myself tiny enough to live in it.

I had an early start carrying a scythe over my shoulder.  Jack and his bean stalk were coming home by the time I got to the fields where all my memories were dressed as werewolves.  I stood before the expanse of grass and howled, my past howled back, and then it rained forcing me inside were the Buddha was talking to his disciples.  I walked on lotus blossom until I could remember my own name.  I had to go out again in the evening; most of the girls walked on cinders.

The song bird music receded as June and I materialised sailing in a gravy boat across what was a table cloth before the blitz in the early forties.  She patiently cleaned the French ultramarine coloured crockery while I peeled an orange which I had found half way up the Eiffel Tower.  I came home wearing only banana flip flops and the French Flag.  As the umpire called over the plastic models of famous celebrities took the rabbit to the vets - his teeth were growing too long again.

I stood on the prow of the cloud ship and waved to June as she left to dance with pixies.  I  had to wrestle giant squids in the land of the pillow people before getting the opportunity to escape disguised as a top hat on legs.  As the sun sent out text messages I took a train to collect June from the port which Nelson had sailed from to discover the new world.  The pixies were lined up in serried rows, some stretched out their hands to me while others shook their own.

June had to go out early to sit in the castle moat so I busied myself in the garden gluing together bits of plants which had come apart during the night.  When she returned (dressed as a cherry pink teddy bear) we did a morris dance round the pond and crept out under enemy fire to the shops.  I found a small two masted boat in my mouth which I was too polite to spit out.  I gave the neighbours two washing lines and June and I went out to dinner followed by several hundred Apache braves.

I spent most of the morning as a baggy T-shirt, I was either draped over an Eighteenth Century rococo chair or spread out on the bed like crumpled lips.  My wife meanwhile was a doughnut with strawberry jam inside, she rushed out into the heat blowing strawberry coloured smoke rings.  The herd of animals which migrate from one room to another were suffering from the excessive temperatures so we put them in the fridge.  I watered the plants in the Crystal Palace while June sailed away on a block of ice.

I woke to find a man with a rams head peering down at me, I swallowed a grand piano and hammered out a tune - it disappeared like an Alka Seltzer.  I took my ace inhibitor and rolled down stairs, June was laying on her back with a Sequoiadendron growing between her legs.  I wrote a letter for posterity before going to clean out the fish tank - the occupants of the tank (which included a one man submarine which my wife and I had earlier adopted) were reading poems in free verse.