Seminar Poem inspired by Frost’s A Dream Pang
I want you to know that that time when I
broke the dog’s leg with the lawn mower
and blamed it on our daughter
and called you a whore for not believing me (which is reasonable because honestly
I don’t even believe me all the time, like the time I forgot about the
wheat bread, and told you they only had white bread, and you know I prefer white bread so you saw through it and I apologize and you
said alright, but the kind of alright that isn’t alright, that reminds you of your parents and how they know what kind of bread you like and reminds you of that one argument we had where I explained, very clearly, very sensibly, and very poignantly how I’m different from them, how I’m my own person and you cried and Marsha cried)
and then you shrank me down to the size of a peanut
and fed me to your ex,
and I woke up crying a little bit and didn’t wake you up, even though I would
tell you in the morning because I thought
it was funny,
That was all likely caused by the tiramisu from the night before
and the clam whose shell didn’t open.
Whereas the bed we sleep in and the car we drive
were not made by me
but they were bought by me (by us)
from work and time.
From waking hours we spent
not unconscious seconds.
The kind of dreams you have when you’re young
The kind they ask you to fill out in a form
Fill in the blank
Stable relationship without any debt
Those dreams are what I believe in
We don’t even own a lawn mower.