Dream Land
I had this terrible dream that Alex was cheating on me. I was supposed to turn in a poem for Creative Writing on Tuesday but I never went to class that day, nor did I write the poem. Today I couldn’t get the dream out of my head. So I wrote this.
Alex’s House
Is the place that sets my dreams
Sets my dreams repeating an image of a beautiful Latina girl
Who nervously zipped up her pants when I walked into the room.
This image of her in the room
With my boyfriend, with my boyfriend
Caused me to look at her, and she looked at me with fear in her eyes,
With eyes that abandoned innocence up her wide vagina ages ago.
The first questions I think of aren’t good enough
I try to forget everything, including the fear in her eyes.
The first question I think of is, “Did you sleep together?” I need to know
My boyfriend stays silent, broods darkly on the bed
(Like he has been lately) He’s been so angry and tired
but I didn’t think he was this angry and tired.
The Latina says, “No,” and Alex says, “No”
And I press my fingers together, killing the ant resting there.
I ask them again, not for dramatic effect, and they say “No”
and she seems nice so not even I could hate her so I say, “Just tell me the truth”
and she says, “I’m sorry.”
Fuck you, little pretentious whore!
You think you can fuck just anyone just because you’re short
While I’m tall and awkward.
I am sickened, sickened
And I go into a blind rage that I always hear about in murder films.
I can hear myself screaming, my forehead sweating bullets
She is cowering, apologizing, and yet Alex is still silent,
Moody, upset, and tired.
I am sure he doesn’t even see me there, even as I am screaming at him
It’s over, it’s over, how could you, we’re done
I wasn’t sure how to break up with someone who didn’t notice
So at the end, I forgave him for his sake and listened to him later
As he told me that the Latina girl was the best fuck he had ever had
As we walked through a field, and I felt the constant waves
of a boat we hadn’t been on yet.
