Part of my Feb 2024 Dream Poems project.
At A Loss For Words
Some encounters are dreams,
set in a real world that’s been
rendered to appear more magically incoherent
than usual, the elements available,
proscribed, known, but swirling together
without taking shape, like in the liquor store
when John told me that come spring
he would want to dominate a conversation with me
about his garden, and I laughed, unsure
which clause confused me most,
and of course distracted
by the mention of spring at all
in this frozen overlay of a stuck January,
and he tried to clarify but the only word he had was
'dominate.' He looked to me, both of us question shaped,
asking for the word, asking me to understand
what his mind meant, and I thought, well,
this is not how I would dominate a conversation,
but maybe it really is,
asking all the questions,
giving nothing away except
some slight inclination for a future
where there are spring gardens
and we’re still here talking;
and I laugh again later
when I think 'initiate,'
which is exactly what John was already doing
in the most collaborative way,
and when I wake up I will wonder
how he did it so deftly.
©M Wms 2024
Leave a Reply