And Yet Another…


He was up again at four, as he
often was, to write out the details
of the latest rugsucker dream,
as he had done dozens or hundreds
of other 4 AMs before.

The rugsucker dream—always
the same, differently, this time,
as always, had woken him at 4,
just before he’d intended to
awaken, and demanded to be
written down. Always the same
elements: always the truck
parked too far from the house,
always the rug not ready to be
sucked, always the specific
inevitable mechanical problem,
unfixable; this time the steam tank
leaking and sloshing,
the steam lines’ couplings corroded
and crumbling in his hands.


One thought on “And Yet Another…

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