A Dream
“your worst dream”
—Ted Hughes, “A Dream,”
Birthday Letters
________________________
The doorbell rings—
Gawd, it’s you back again
It’s like lifting the—
Lid of your coffin an inch
You’re back again—
In hushed dead daddy drag
“I’m back again, honey”
I don’t say anything to you
Dingy St. Peter’s next door—
Suddenly gongs like Chartres
An expensive birthday present—
Right down to the last franc
I tell him “Get lost, creep”—
“Dead husbands make me puke”
I wake up from the dream—
Fix myself a dry martini
No comments:
Post a Comment