Hello Friends —
“I dreamed ________” or “and then I woke up” are about as cliché premises in poetry and fiction as you can get, like a bad pick-up line. And yet there’s something endearing about a certain kind of pick-up line so absurd it would only ever occur to a poet to even attempt to pull it off — and fail/succeed beautifully at it.
Enjoy.
Ellen
Dear Tiara
I dreamed I was a mannequin in the pawnshop window
of your conjectures.
I dreamed I was a chant in the mouth of a monk, saffron-robed
syllables in the religion of You.
I dreamed I was a lament to hear the deep sorrow places
of your lungs.
I dreamed I was your bad instincts.
I dreamed I was a hummingbird sipping from the tulip of your ear.
I dreamed I was your ex-boyfriend stored in the basement
with your old baggage.
I dreamed I was a jukebox where every song sang your name.
I dreamed I was in an elevator, rising in the air shaft
of your misgivings.
I dreamed I was a library fine, I’ve checked you out
too long so many times.
I dreamed you were a lake and I was a little fish leaping
through the thin reeds of your throaty humming.
I must’ve dreamed I was a nail, because I woke beside you still
hammered.
I dreamed I was a tooth to fill the absences of your old age.
I dreamed I was a Christmas cactus, blooming in the desert
of my stupidity.
I dreamed I was a saint’s hair shirt, sewn with the thread
of your saliva.
I dreamed I was an All Night Movie Theater, showing the
flickering black reel of my nights before I met you.
I must’ve dreamed I was gravity, I’ve fallen for you so damn hard.
By Sean Thomas Dougherty from Sasha Sings the Laundry on the Line (2010)