blueberries gasoline and prostate gland
breast cancer Wonderbread and pacifier
controlled experiment space travel and honey
peanuts inductive reasoning and electricity
tornadoes torture chamber and biscuits
copyright car radio cantaloupe
golden eagle lunch break tomato
Romanian songbook rhubarb and barbed wire
always hungry nevermind meat loaf
goosefoot mango juice Ipad
mosquito bite city street and broccoli
Chinese cabbage female sex drive water sport
pure contralto goat yogurt new year
black death white light and green tea
I realize now that I am having a dream.
Nothing appears as normal, it would seem.
I do not know if it is early or late.
I feel a strong urge to urinate.
I am looking for a toilet or urinal in my head.
As of this day, I have never wet my bed.
I think I am voiding, but I get no relief.
I feel inward pressure on my bladder. Good grief!
I now have to get out of bed and go.
I lift the toilet seat and let my urine flow.
It is that time to start another day.
I wake up so many times this way.
I think I know what is the matter.
It must be my prostate gland pressing on my bladder.
Robert Pettit
For Francine’s “A Couplet Morning” contest
August 11, 2012
I dreamt
the sun was a Cadillac
with a black chauffeur
and I was a giant brown gofer
with yellow teeth
and a prostate gland
you wouldn't believe.
But I awoke
and found the moon
was a white grub
greasy as a hunk of fat
snuggled in my bed
between wet sheets
and purple hot water bottles,
dreaming of Camelot
and calmly reciting Keats.
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