The Dream, to My Sister

 This is a poem I wrote for my Poetry class last semester. The assignment topic was 'dream'.



The Dream, to My Sister

I dreamed last night
that Dad left her,
and got back together with Mom.

Mom had big white feathery wings,
and Dad looked a lot like Clinton,
but he was still Dad.
He cooked turducken
with marshmallows for dinner,

and he told Mom
how her new haircut
made her look like Sally Field,
she smiled and showed
two rows of Asscher cut diamonds
brushed to perfection.

Her red lips fluttered
like hummingbird wings
over his ear,
but I could still hear it--
“Thanks for noticing.”

Then Dad made the announcement
to the family that he wouldn’t
be getting an adjoining room
at the Hinman with any
of his hygienists this year.

He said he rather stay home and tell Mom
and us his stories about playing lead guitar
in The Haymarket Riot--
Getting stoned with the band
on Nanny’s roof before the shows.

I thought I heard him say
 “I could never tell those kinds of stories
 to you know who.”

Poor Mom pranced
around the table humming
Sacrifice by Elton John.

I couldn’t tell if she was laughing
or crying as she passed out
hot strawberry turnovers
and filled tiny ceramic teacups
with passion-flavored tea,

the stuff you guys always raved
about her doing before I was born,
or “when Mom used to cook,”
I guess before she got depressed
and suspicious.

When she got around to me,
she winked one of her watery blue eyes
“See girls, I told you not all boys
grow up to be cheaters.”