daymares

With the onset of warm weather
my daysleeping's been assailed
by bad dreams. The sun turns
my room into a midday oven
and I writhe in sticky sheets
senselessly battling the subconscious.

Today's line-up was worth
the price paid for ringside seats.
First my girlfriend ate something unpleasant
halfway through her salad and lost her composure.
She asked for a Diet Coke to wash down
whatever food was left in her throat.
When I brought one to her she said she couldn't
drink it, it didn't taste right. I asked her
what it was that she'd eaten but she
wouldn't tell me. I figured it must've been
a bug hiding in the lettuce. It didn't change anything
but for some reason I shoved a handful of
onions in my mouth as some poor penance
and moved on to the next dreamscape.

The waiting room was full of hunchbacked
widows in pastel sundresses with curly white hair.
My father and I were standing in line
seeking aid for the same malady
though I can't recall what it was.
As usual he made a fool of himself
embarrassing me with his boisterous antics
and making the old biddies blush.
Whatever had been ailing me was suddenly
not worth the wait so I bolted for the door
leaving the old man to seek his fate alone.
It's only in dreams that I take my own advice.

When I awoke it took me a few good breaths
to decide which nightmare had been worse.
The clock read twelve-eighteen, the sun stabbed
through the slits between the blinds
and I knew that the worst was yet to come.

On days like this it's hard to fathom
the point of putting pants on
but it'll do me well to leave the cave
and venture out into the madness.
The devil you know...it's the rest
you've got to worry about.



Currently reading:
"The Elegance of the Hedgehog" by Muriel Barbery.