Fever Dream

The day I lay on the couch
In hypnagogic fever dream
Walter Cronkite raining ghastly energy
On my pajama’ed, five-year-old self
-- His news of Universal destruction
Burrowing into my sleep, tearing at all childhood
F oo t h ol d s
Waking me with a start
To find…

Walter Cronkite on the television
Talking calmly about some banal development
In the news

I pulled off my blanket
Rushed outside
Looking frantically around
Until I spotted the Cleveland Press delivery boy, alive
…Alive

I fell to my knees into the lawn, sobbing
“I thought everyone was dead…
I thought….everyone….was...dead...”

Not alone in this world, as if I ever could be
The paper boys, the pet hamsters, my stout little mother
Would be with me, in some form or another
Until the end of days

When Brahma will open his eyes
The dream of his Creation ended
And we will revel as One
In the worlds of our own Imagining