Dreams or not
Offer comfort or what?
Dare I tell anyone of my dreams,
Lest I’ll be placed in a psych ward,
drooling even more.
My Parkie World of Dreams is hard to describe.
Only two types of dreams to ride.
Dream 1. Like a nice episode of “This Is Your Life,”
Who knew my family was so nice?
There is one problem. My dead mother won’t leave.
Is she trying to comfort to me?
Dream 2. Like an Alice in Wonderland- animated film, or a fun house at a fair.
A vivid dream with spinning beds, undulating floors, and floating chairs.
Most senses heightened, even smells and tastes.
Except my sense of rhythm remains a disgrace.
As the world spins around, making me dizzy,
I lay flat gripping the bed, almost in a tizzy.
Upon waking, not wanting to part with reality, I run through a checklist at my behest.
-Furniture moved back from whence it came.
- Reconcile there are just the two of us in the house,
- Look for dead relatives lurking about.
- Make sure my legs are in land mode.
Before my grip on the mattress will let go.