Weird Dreams

by jimowensjr

Bears and cars and my grandmother

and the time I forgot my shoes

before a game;

 

Sometimes I’m the hero,

Sometimes I’m afraid;

 

Muff, the dog I had when I was a kid,

being late for the bus

and clowns;

 

Clowns?  Why clowns?

I’m not afraid of clowns.

At least I don’t think I am.

 

There’s the one about the dentist and

Bobby Joe yelling at me.

Sorry, Coach;

 

One time I jerked awake trying to

stop that man with the gun;

I’m pretty sure I did but I can’t

remember;

 

The ones that make me crazy are when someone

I know shows up but she isn’t in her

own body;

or he isn’t.

I mean his voice is the same and he’s saying things he

should say,

but he looks like someone I’ve never met;

 

The one where I see her in the crowd

and I keep trying to

make my way to her but never get any closer;

I think that means

I’ll never have six-pack abs;

 

Maybe I shouldn’t eat before bedtime or should get a book

to interpret them,

or go to Delphi and try to find the Oracle;

Or maybe I’m just in the Matrix,

Or maybe my brain is just a playground

of memories and hopes and

fears and love;

 

Who knows?

I have to go to work.

Dreams are weird.

Probably, this poem is too.