Poems About My Weekend

I DREAMED ABOUT A VAMPIRE

I dreamt of a foggy night, a full moon and vampires.

I was wearing a red satin dress, my hair was long.

A handsome vamp flew out of the sky to greet me because we were old friends.

He said something but I don't remember what because it was a dream.

He swept me into his arms, his fangs bright in the light of the moon.

As he prepared to lift me off of the ground and fly me away to, I'm not sure, suck my blood or kill me,

I felt compelled to warn him that I'd gained a lot of weight over the last 3 years, almost 30 pounds, though I wasn't sure why. Metabolism? Medication? He suggests. His guess is as good as mine.

I woke up and checked my neck- no bite marks. I checked my body- still 30 pounds heavier.

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B IS FOR BRICK BY BEN FOLDS FIVE

It was after sunset. We drove home from dinner in my Subaru. Trees along the road looked like frozen-in-headlights deer or did the deer look like trees that walked? Either way, we did not hit any trees or deer.

The kids wanted me to play DJ. I asked them for a letter of the alphabet. M for Michael Jackson's Thriller. J for Jonas Brothers, Only Human. H for Henry Styles, Sign of the Times.

I choose my own letter, B for Ben Folds Five, Brick. I listened to it five times in a row on the way to work last week. I sing/ speak the introductory lines like I am center stage at a poetry slam at a coffeehouse in the 90's. I look over at my husband as I do when I sing any emotionally charged song.

"Do you know what this song is about?" I ask.

"It's about a brick." He is sure to not look away from the road, especially at me.

I hold my hand to my chest, and croon each word, as if I am reading from my journal.

"Do you know what this song is about?" I hold back tears. "They call her name at 7:30.

I pace around the parking lot." This song is a goddam masterpiece. "Do you know?" My voice is now an octave higher and not because I am trying to hit the high notes.

I look back at the kids. My heart hurts. This is such a beautiful song and I wonder if they feel it too, but they are 11 and 15 and they are both looking in earnest, out their windows, for moving trees or frozen deer.

We pull in our driveway and I am relieved because the song is almost over, and now I'm tired from the burst of emotion about something that didn't happen to me, but feels like it did, because that's what songs from the 90's do to me now. My family is relieved because this has been an uncomfortable three minutes to end a normal and otherwise uneventful Saturday.

We gather our bags and empty water bottles. My husband clicks the fob to lock the Subaru and looks over his shoulder at me on the way to the house. "We all know what that song is about. We all know."

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PLAYING THE GAME CALLED I DIDN'T GET YOUR TEXT

My husband and I like to play a game. It's called "I Didn't Get Your Text".

Today, we are hiking and we ascend to the top. I sit down on a rock and sip lukewarm coffee from a paper cup. My husband is wearing shorts and stands tall, looking out at a mountain in the distance, the peak covered in snow. The sky is brilliant, there are no clouds, and a lake in the distance shimmers. It is so nice to hike with him and know that our daughters are safe and capable of being home alone for an hour.

"It sure is perfect up here." I hold my hand over my eyes, to protect them from the bright morning sun, and smile up at him. I feel so content.

He continues to look out over the horizon. "You never texted me Karen's phone number."

I rise and wipe little rocks and dirt from my legs before pulling my phone from my vest pocket.

"Of course I sent you that text. How many times do you pretend that you didn't get a text from me? I texted you and texted her on the same thread." I sidle up next to him, scrolling my phone, and preparing for feelings of justification to overcome my annoyance.

He stoops over my shoulder to see that I have found my evidence.

"Oh, It looks like I sent that text to Karen, but not you. Umm, just Karen."

We descend the mountain and I am still annoyed at him.