Mathias Svalina begins delivering dreams (individually-written poems) on bike to subscribers in the Denver area every day before dawn. Dreams, June 2017: "You are walking in the desert before dawn when you come to great pit. The pit extends as far as you can see. It is full of scaffolding & cranes & half-built skyscrapers & new condos. Workers in hardhats & orange vests rush about, lifting beams & digging trenches & welding things to other things. They are building a brand new city in the pit, a city of right angles & white paint & freshly cut stone. A city of tomorrow. Then the sun rises over the horizon & sunlight beams into the pit. Where the sunlight hits it melts the pit-city, the half-built structures turning into water, the scaffolding collapsing into puddles. They have built pit-city out of ice. They must have known it would melt when the sun came out. You decide to write a song about this, a song called “The Ballad of Pit City.” Before you can write the song you need to find a guitar. You walk down into Pit City, hoping to find a music store or a pawn shop, but all the buildings have melted. The workers are huddled in the shady edges of the pit. You walk up to a worker & ask where you might find a guitar. Not here, the worker says, not now. But you should try tomorrow. We rebuild this city every night once the sun goes down. You thank the worker & walk through the flooded puddles of the melted city. And who is this person walking beside you, carrying a bundle of firewood? It is enough to know they are a friend."