In My Nephritic Dreams
by Bill Yarrow
In my dreams, God is toxic. In my dreams,
heroism feels cowardly. In my dreams,
traveling west is an oxymoron. In my dreams,
I confuse Kurt Vonnegut with Kurt Waldheim.
In my dreams, I forget Arthur Schopenhauer's
first name. In my dreams, the Danish pastry
is filled with Swiss cheese. In my dreams,
a bazooka is a measure of time. In my dreams,
the word “expostulate” means “to cough.”
In my dreams, the remoulade reeks of sulfur.
In my dreams, instead of a cap on my head, I wear
a trade. In my dreams, I watch a sand shark sleep
on a coral bed. In my dreams, the chickens come home
to rooster. In my dreams, I am awake most of the night.
Nice, Bill. Love the word play in this one.
Great first line and closing. Everything in between fits in so nicely.
Bill, you do this so damned well, it hurts.
fave
The barrage of “in my dreams” is infuriating – in the best sense – and puts a strangle hold to inhibit the movement of language in the piece. The choice of verbs / descriptive – toxic, feels cowardly, traveling west, confuse, forget, reeks, wear a trade – I’ll stop there - lead to a perpetual nothingness: the waking night. Perfect.
The last line gets me. I feel so much with it -- and the rest of the piece too -- but that really hits. *
Some damn bad dreams here. "Expostulate" DOES mean "to cough," doesn't it?
A winner. *
Every line gives me something interesting and complete to consider.I feel envious, because I'm sure I'll never be able to create any kind of poetry, let alone this, but it gives me a little jolt of energy to know that others(in this case, you) can. I think this is one of my favourites of your poems.
i like this a lot. the last line is especially brilliant.
Thanks, Tantra! So kind of you to seek out and comment on this poem. I'm very pleased you liked it. (Can't message you directly for some reason.)
Wonderful.