|
| |
Dream Talk
At breakfast I scribble in a notebook
questions like:
why do I feel like a duck-billed platypus
has been nibbling at my brain all night?
The I remember
the billabong, the kookaburra
and the ‘jolly swagman’
all of whom
party-crashed my REM-sleep.
I ask: "Did you dream in the night dear?"
“Flamingo.” she says tersely.
After a pause,
“You ran-over my pet flamingo
with that big stupid truck of yours.”
I thoughtfully butter some toast.
“It was the flying monkey’s”
I replied weakly,
“they made me do it”
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
|
|