Morning

Over night there was
a whole lot of chatter
across the uninterested net



and
 
I slept through it all
though my dreams 
held me hostage
to another idea.

I snoozed
then overslept.

Woke a bit bewildered
showered impatiently
and hoped that the bed
would make itself.

The final dream of the night
had told me in a
very direct way that,
“I had made my bed, so now I must lie in it.”

I replied to this afterthought of a dream
now fading in the morning,
“so I did, and so I have lied down in it.
And now you can go ahead and remake it.
For is that not what you dreams
are supposed to do?”

Without arguement or as much as a puff 
my dreams got to folding down the edges
and fluffing the pillows

and

I was happy to see that there was
one egg left over for my breakfast.

I broke the shell across the forehead
of some vague reality
fried my values on both side
and poured Tobassco directly
into my bloodshot eyes.