I Drink Your Milkshake

For the last week or two
Or maybe longer,
Yes, longer,
I’ve had these Epic Dreams
That last Too Long.
When I wake up I’m still dreaming
And I have to shake the images off like a wool coat
Next to my bare skin
All prickly
Hot
My mouth dry like
Newspapers.

Two nights ago I dreamt that the kids and Sergei and I
Were at a diner
And Boy-child was at the counter
With me
Asking for sausage
When I asked him if he also wanted toast
He didn’t answer
Didn’t look at me
I asked him again, “Do you want toast with that?”
Nothing
A million miles away
I sighed, “okay
No toast then”
Boy-child then became Daniel Day Lewis
Complete with moustache,
And stabbed my hand repeatedly with a fork
Chanting
“I drink your milkshake.
I drink it up.”
…
He left to sit
And he was Boy-child again,
Sweet smiling cherub
The dream went on, full of
Mixed up housing
Cars that turned into tree limbs
Hills where I could run or fall.
…
And I woke up breathing like underwater,
Angry and confused


This morning I woke up
Breathless and hurt
Because Girl-child had not thanked the dream’s party host
And I tried to make up for her lack of enthusiasm
And the host was pissed
And Boy-child threw a wad of paper at a
Stranger
Passing by
And I was at the Country Music Awards
On roller-skates
With kids in tow
Not caring who Trace Adkins had
Slept with
Just wondering
How the hell
I could get home.

Maybe I need to drink some warm milk
before bed.
Maybe that would chase away these dreams
Where I’m mad
At my kids
Which makes me mad
At myself
In real life.