nightmare invasion

I had a dream it was breaking day 
and the sky was like infinite marigold 
with the faintest suggestion of green 
in the depths,
like an overturned, compassing 
goldfish bowl.
But looming and huge 
in circling drift, impossibly slow 
and impossibly vast, there were craft 
in the sky like rude cigars. Lumpen, 
irregular, not built to last and of varying 
lengths - yet even the shortest, nuggetlike 
lumps had dwarfed the clouds.
Dispelled them like milk
in the foulest tea that had ever stirred
and been stormed about. And the smell

I can't even describe that now. 
I didn't know dreams
could smell at all.
But this one's aroma, no, stench 
lingers yet. Although I woke up
from it days ago