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Monday, 29 January
It's Always Time For Poetry!

A morning's disturbing dreams
Where I thought
My wife was leaving me

I awoke in a tangle of confusion
And woe
And horror
And a t-shirt that was twisted around my
And, turning to my sleeping wife,
I held her, and she said

I had no words.

The dreams we have
As children, as adults,
Or in those wrenching middle-
times when we are

They are boring and irritating.

Once, as a boy, golden-haired,
A real puss-boy
Who would cry at
I once dreamed

"What if--what if (I was in my bed
in my dream, wondering)

What if Frankenstein walked in?"
So Frankenstein walked in
And I screamed.

Because Frankenstein is scary
I guess
Except he doesn't do much
And he's pretty slow and stupid
So I felt--I felt

Stupid Frankenstein.

But I screamed anyway
For my mother

I hope that if the day ever comes
That I face Frankenstein
I don't really scream for my mother

Maybe I can scream for an
Ombudsman or a
Notary Public and he or she
Can assure me officially
That there is no Frankenstein
And he's so slow anyway

blows so much

Notary Public!

Be there for me

Be there

Be honest with me
Don't tell my mother I screamed for you

She will just tell you about when I got scared of

But even she does not
(Nor you, ombudsman, nor anybody
Nor even Morpheus himself--
It's not in the comic book)

Know about the time I--
I dreamed--
It was such a thing--

Of having sex with a loud, abrasive baby
In a top hat.

Nobody must ever know,
And nobody ever shall.

Wordplay | Skot | 29 Jan, 2007 |

Note: Comments are closed on old entries.


Obviously this stuff never came out to your fiance prior to your getting married.

Comment number: 011402   Posted by: You can call me, Sir on January 30, 2007 08:38 AM from IP:

the time before waking. The wolf's hour. The most disturbing dreams.

Comment number: 011404   Posted by: alyxmyself on January 30, 2007 11:27 AM from IP:

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