Saturday, December 31, 2011

guess the dream poet - part 5

Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.

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__Poet 1__ is in the bathroom. I'm hiding and giggling with __Poet 2__. We see a pile of baby bottle nipples underneath __Poet 1's__ bed. I tell __Poet 2__ that __Poet 1__ is sort of obsessed with feeding babies since he and his wife adopted one. __Poet 2__ says that he nastily went after her step-mother. The stepmother was an outspoken proponent of breastfeeding. I tell __Poet 2__ that's probably because __Poet 1's__ wife had such a difficult time breastfeeding, he probably saw her stepmother as a threat. But now I'm wondering, where is their adopted baby? Do they even have that baby anymore?

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I'm talking about _______ with some women. They're telling me how he's not sexy anymore. I'm a little surprised. I remember his sexy calves from just last year.

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_______ is making some kind of poetry video. He and his father chase a small airplane that's driving down a street. They jump on the back wheels and hold on. Then they're inside the plane. As the plane cruises up and down the road, he and his barrel-chested father take turns hanging out the window topless, just like if they were cruising in a car. Some women find this sexy.

* * *

In a math class. I can't figure out how to do a simple equation. I keep getting one of the parts wrong. This is something I used to be able to do but I've forgotten how and can't seem to learn it again. The teacher is making me learn again. I'm frustrated. At one point _______ is here. He/she seems really disappointed or in disbelief that I can't do this. I wonder if I have some kind of brain damage. It almost would seem like a relief -- to have a legitimate reason for why I'm struggling.

* * *

_______ is my mother. She's just returned from being in prison for 2 years. I'm a teenager and there's a lot of friction between us. We're living in a giant, beautiful mansion. I tell her I'm going to the bathroom. I go inside and a minute later she comes in, because it's the door into her bedroom. I yell at her that I told her I'd be in there. Every time I try to sit on the toilet, I notice another door that's open, and go close it. Some of the time I can even keep the doors closed. _______ yells at me that I've been in the bathroom a long time. I scream that I just want a few minutes on the toilet with some privacy, is that so much to ask for?

_______ wants me to go to my therapy appointment. I want to go, but I'm not ready and I argue with her on the balcony outside of my bedroom. I challenge _______ to a fight. I say "come on, let's go, prison rules!" not only showing that I'm not afraid of her, but I could give her the prison rule advantage and still kick her ass.

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2 comments:

  1. I think you should put the real poets' names in and publish these as a book.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That would be a lot of freaked out poets!

    ReplyDelete