Marriage Dream

I had a dream you got married

To the best friend of my neighbors

To the best friend of my brother

To the best friend of my family

To the best friend of my best friends 

It wasn’t me though,

Because I know myself:

I arrived at my aunt’s hungover

Depressed (but generally

not circumstances induced)

I desperately wanted to go to sleep

But this was the dream where you get married

He knew the names of my friends’ children

And they knew his and they giggled together

And the last night I saw them they were two

“Why hadn’t they stayed babies?

Why did they have to grow up?” I asked

“Its what they do” their father answered,

“He wrote a good poem about it” 

And sent me a link 

My aunt came to make sure I was feeling well

-Your wedding was the next day!-

And throughout the house friends and family

Not just mine, but his and yours, were running

The kids were playing tag and goofing 

The adults were carrying supplies and gifts and goofing 

“Yeah, I’m fine”

Everyone slept

And I laid in the only spot available 

(I had been late)

It was a mat and sleeping bag in the living room

The couch was taken by a girl with alcoholic breath who had left a video game on the TV

And that’s when I saw you out of the window

And then I woke up

Quarantined and cold in April

Pain in my knee from falling 

Soreness in my arms from carrying nothing

My Fitbit says it’s 3am

Why do I have a headache? Cotton mouth?

For fucks sake I didn’t drink that much 

I slowly wake up, a second time,

And I realize I’m late, a second time,

The wedding is starting soon

So I dash to the elevator 

Where I descend into a Death Star turned inside out 

It goes straight down through the middle

Of a vast planetary sized bowl

Where the edges are lit like fires

By the sunlight that can’t make its way down 

Into the spacious darkness below

At some point the elevator shaft ends 

and the elevator simply flies automatically

To the wedding reception

I’ve missed the wedding ceremony

But I see Him walking through the crowd 

“I’m so glad you could make it

I really appreciate it

Everyone is so glad you’re here

It’s so relieving talking to you

You get it yeah? Come to this thing after

God, I have to talk to more people”

He departs

Dressed in Byzantium gold adorned with red jewels

And cloaked in a red cape adorned with gold jewels

A crown on his head with a dazzling array of light 

I gotta get the fuck out of here

My family wanted to stop and chat; no

My friends wanted to stop and chat; no

His Family wanted to stop and chat; fuck no

The elevator lifts off

Raising me through the darkness

Through this inside out Death Star

Towards the-

     -it gets stuck in the shaft

I pop my head out of the box

“What the fuck” 

A diatribe from another guest comes:

“Heroes these days don’t have to work

They’re simply gifted deus ex machinas

And so when the hero or heroine wins

It doesn’t feel deserved so no one cares 

They have to struggle”

I think he’s wrong

And I struggle with the machine 

Something with ropes? They’re knotted 

They’re untied, they’re loose 

They have no slack 

I struggle through it, alone 

And then I just fall holding onto the rope

And the elevator shaft whizzes by

Until the rope stops my fall in free space 

The darkness is below me

The rim of fire above me

And the rope is stuck on a loose nail

Bending toward its yield point 

I let go, full expecting to wake up

But there’s This Thing After 

And it’s not an after party 

It’s a big circle, all of his His Friends,

His Family, and also, for some reason,

My Friends and My Family are there 

All of them are men 

And I have this fear that they might beat the shit out of me 

Instead He passes out a specialized booklet 

First to his father and then to his brother

And then eventually to my father and my brother and then me

I realize as he comes down the circle,

They’re thank you cards, but not just tiny cards, more like thank you mini-novellas

He has written for every one of them

He hands me mine, clasps my shoulder,  and whispers,

“Really, I appreciate you coming.

She doesn’t want to be your friend 

But she wanted you here to see this,

Thanks so much, buddy”

Through the window I see her then

Dressed in gold:

Flowers and red jewels running down her dress 

Her veil is red 

Her earrings are like two suns 

Her eyes turn to me

I wither 

I wake up