Late No Thanks To My Husband

a runaway train blowing a warning blasts me from my dream state my heart is beating as wildly as any antelope being eaten by a cheetah I am weaker than a baby deer wide awake for three hours writing poetry which makes no sense throwing my crumpled bruised words on the floor My eyes begin to close so I wander back to my pillow a tame zebra that belongs in a zoo begins to limp toward me what am I going to do with it? I wonder. I do not even know what it eats. The zebra opens his mouth and shows me vampire teeth My concern turns to horror and I try to run But I am pinned to my bed by a concrete gargoyle Who is not allowing even my legs to move I can feel my heart beating in a crazy weird way I know the zebra is going to devour me. But instead the gargoyle transmogrifies into a fire truck. Gong. Gong. Gong. Gong. Gong. I am late to work, no thanks to my husband Who heard that stupid alarm going for twenty-three minutes. Why didn’t you WAKE me up? I ask him. Remember the time you had the dream about being a killer? He asks. He still has a few scars.