Welcoming a New Daze

Of Clock Radios and Guinea Pigs

The snooze button is exactly
one step and a stretch from the bed.
Just as I got the covers cinched back up under my chin
the battery back-up alarm
let out it’s Psycho song next to my head.

I laid there– clock clenched to my chest
in anticipation of it’s annoying reminder–
and tried to remember the details of the dream
from which I was abruptly awoken–
so I could jot them down in clever prose.

I found myself distracted by the clock radio
perched on the dresser five feet away.
I then started to think about all the clock radios
in my life that either obnoxiously welcomed a new day
or mocked me on those insomniac nights.

It seems to me they were all made by Lloyd.
I knew a Lloyd once. A distant relation through marriage.
A gaunt figure with enormous ears in plaid flannel.
He raised guinea pigs.
Their cages and mess kept in the kitchen.
Shredded newspapered pellets everywhere.

I think they had the run of the house.

I then remembered my first Lloyd clock radio.
Amber lit white numbered black flags–
that if the refrigerator happened to not be running
you could actually hear the minutes
flip away–
or was it
flap?

Now that I think about it
I’m rather sure it was
flap.

That was many clock radios ago.

Now Lloyd mocks me in a display
of red glowing LED.

The minutes pass stealthily–
as if I’m not paying attention.
I rather miss the
flap–
some actual proof of a minute gone by–
that is– other than the increasing number of white hairs on my chin.
Jipped again!

I wonder what ever happened to those guinea pigs–

and, of course, to Lloyd.


-nc

Of Daughters, Dreams, and Sleepless Nights

I dreamed last night...

I dreamed last night they were dead.
How or why I don’t really know.
Did I forget or does it not matter?
We both realized it–
There was acknowledgement in our eyes.
Yet that’s as far as it went.
We both faded into each other’s distances.

There were people everywhere in the house (why were they here?)
I’ve dreamed of this house before.
I think it’s a collage of every house I have ever lived in (12!).
All over- painted flat white with over head frosted glass fixtures.
(I’ve always hated those.)
I moved around the rooms like a ghost tormented.
I couldn’t get the words out– if I did it would only be admitting they were gone
Why? Why– why!?
I can’t go on! Can I go on?
How do those parents go on?

I wove through the people– all in the process of getting dressed–
As though they were preparing to go to…
…a funeral??
But they can’t know yet. Neither one of us could muster the courage–
to utter the words…
yet everyone looked at me in that way…
Could they surmise from the anguish
clearly stretched over my frame?

I escaped to what I thought was an empty room.
I should have known otherwise
from the black jacket draped over a side chair next to the bed.
The bed creaked as I sat
on the edge (the edge ???)
and rested my head on the back of the chair.

I exhaled and wept.
I wept and wept.
I inhaled. Well, I tried to inhale.
All I could muster was a sickening gasp.
The more I tried to breath, the more my throat closed.
Air would not fill my lungs.
As if my body knew there was no longer need for air.

From a door to the left of the scene, stepped out my father in law–
shirt-tails un-tucked, collar up in mid knot.
“ The two of you are clearly upset–
every one’s muttering… what the hell’s going on?”

“…They’re gone!! “ I managed to growl.

He looked straight at me.
the camera tightened up around his big shaved head–
a clear shot of the red spotted toilet tissue blotter on his upper lip.
He clamped his temples and yelled
“How could YOU let this happen?!”

In the dream I awoke.
I was standing in a room.
Yes– a room I’ve dreamed of before…
From behind me– a voice (my father’s?)
“Are you alright?”
I stared down at my feet.
Beneath them an old wooden floor–
I could see dirt between the split seams
with the over-painted baseboard creating a horizon,
punctuated by one of those rubber-tipped door stops.
The rubber tip was gone.
Once more “are you alright?”

I exhaled and wept.
I wept and wept.

I watched the tears fall from my eyes
like bombs dropped from the belly of a B29.
Just as they found their target
I muttered:

I dreamed last night they were dead.

And in the dream I awoke.

–nc