Poetry: Fever Dream, Part 2

“Fever Dream, Part 2”

 

Last night, I dreamed

that you were tossing back highballs

from a martini glass,

and when I pointed this out,

you slapped me,

and said everyone was doing it.

 

Last night, I dreamed

that the festivities stretched

from downtown to our basement.

I lay alone, my heart twitching in rhythm

with the thumping bass,

as you danced below with strangers.

 

Last night, I dreamed

that the streets were on fire.

Store-front windows shattered musically,

asphalt groaned under the assault,

and the skies were black with ash

and soot-covered angels.

 

But I woke this morning

to grey walls, a cloudless sky,

and seventeen more hours

until bedtime.