Notes About The Poem

Dreams

I’ve been remembering dreams lately. I don’t know why.
I dreamed I had a conversation with God last night.

We’d finished moving into the university residential dorm - this dream was ripped, directly, from reality.

We (God and I) were on a bench in my residential courtyard, and she asked me what she’d gotten right - in creation.

My mind went blank, I mean, what do you say to THAT? But she was patient, like she had all the time in the world and finally, I came up with something.

“Porcelain tubs,” I said, watching her for a reaction, “beaches, kisses, oysters on the half-shell.” My voice goes all singy-songy when I’m nervous.

“Fashion,” I added, a moment later, “At SOME point we’d have had to have clothes, ya?”

After a bit, she stood up and I knew she was leaving. “About that touching thing,” I started, hesitantly.

She fluttered her hand dismissively, “everyone does it.” She said as she faded away.

When I woke up, I was disappointed with myself. It seemed like such a softball interview. 

There are so many mysteries she could have explained, like UFOs, bigfoot, republicans, why people say “heads-up” when they should say “duck” or if running away from my problems could, henceforth, be counted as exercise.

dreamgodhumorfree verse

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