I dreamt that Sylvia Plath’s “Daddy” was a different poem, in three longer stanzas, the second one opening
reading and writing, and sex and…
and it was well known that the poem was about Ted Hughes’s notorious contempt for Plath’s reading habits
and the bookshelf behind our bed held each of our books on the side where we sleep, which in my dream was the reverse of how we actually sleep
and my side, i realized, was full of anthologies, teaching texts taking up all the shelf space
and D walks in and i say “where did all these Norton anthologies come from and why are they on my shelf” and i hurled one at him, though in my dream this volume of the Norton was shaped more like a Riverside
and he ducks and says “i don’t know, i just brought it home from the gym”
Rooby: What is throw up made of?
Me: Well, it’s food that has been partially digested in your stomach, but instead of going all the way through, it comes back up.
Rooby: Because there’s something wrong with your stomach?
Me: Yes, sometimes.
Rooby: What is “digested”?
Me: It’s how your body breaks the food down for nutrients.
Rooby: And if it goes one way it becomes poop, but if it goes the other way it becomes throw up?
Rooby: Because it made the wrong decision.
Rooby: Ruby [Gloom] has a crush on Skull Boy.
Me: What does it mean to “have a crush” on someone?
Rooby: It means that she feels like she wants to marry him. She just feels that way; she doesn’t actually want to.
Rooby: Are you the boss at your work?
Me: Well, I’m…a professor.
Rooby, disappointed: Awwwwww.
Rooby, brightening: Wait, is that even more important?
“I had a dream that I found eyeballs on the climber and brains under the woodchips at school. I loved the brains because they were so squishy. I told all my friends to look for the brains and Alice found them.”
Me: What do you think he’s thinking about?
Rooby: I thought he was thinking about being in the world. What do you think he’s thinking about?
Me: I thought maybe he was thinking about all the people walking by in the street.
Rooby: I thought he was thinking about himself walking by in the street.
Me: It that a drawing of you?
Rooby: No, it’s just a drawing of what I felt like on the first day of school.
Rooby: See? Happy and scared.