Here's a thought:
Lost in thought:
Came a dream:

A dream of chuckles
Non sequitur conversations:

"Isn't that dystopian?"
"Buildings burn all the time."
"I mean the skyline."

Tower falls.
Saw it first.
Tower fell.
Murder rain.

Accusations flew too.
And we shrugged them off.
There was food, you couldn't see.
The black and white and gray.
Also a tint of orange.

The crane falls.
Saw it first.
The crane fell.
Labyrinthine:
The gray walls.

Two men, ugly and dumb.
One evil and one's not.
Both aliens, or just foreign?
Darkman sings idiot songs.
Darkman sings evil songs.
The uglier the face becomes
The uglier you think.
The uglier the names become
The uglier the face.

Non sequitur conversations.
Some chuckles, accusations.

All the rubble,
Algernon Street
It's relative,
A ton of concrete
Out of place
But recognizeable

She stood there with orange wrists.
And did not (could not?) use her hands.
Laugh and smile at someone, but who?
No one is present there, just me and her.

The crane buckled, I saw it first.
I got away into gray walls.

A thought:
The end of days?
The dance of days.
The end of that.

Concrete Algernon ruins.
Labyrinthine walls.
Where I wound up.

We had guns.
Why?
There was a lizard
Or something lizard like.
No recoil, avoidance.
Crammed spaces.
Crammed spaces, basements.
Some valves, two people come.
Goodbye.
Alarm clock, why?