The dull fantasy
THE DULL FANTASY
It’s a hotel lounge and she says, do you know how expensive it is to travel with an infant? She doesn’t know. Her book is on my bedside table at home--I admire her mentor. She says she has plenty of money, but doesn’t yet have a child. The sun is shining through the window on her mouth. There’s nothing romantic here, I have a child and no money, just practical small talk. Still, I can not tell Grace about this dream. She would not be jealous and it would disappoint me.
THE DULL FANTASY #2
It’s a forest and I’m walking a spider on a leash. That’s it.
Grace says, how cool, but I insist it’s inconvenient. It was really about stress. Not about being bitten, though all but two spiders are venomous. It was really about obligations, and a little about status.
I mean, right now there must be a brown recluse in my house, and I could make a pretty good guess as to where.
THE DULL FANTASY #3
It’s the place on campus where MTV films Spring Break and I appear to be carrying a chemistry beaker full of white wine. This is not good. Then it’s back in the rehab hotel, disappointing Grace, wearing the rehab helmet that causes pain and hallucinations.
In my own attempt at sleep science, I’m convinced there’s part of the brain that could really benefit from being hit with a laser.
13 March, 2021