My Vacation

my voice is syrup,
i pour it over the pancakes
of your questions
when you creak open the door
to ask, “Are you still sleeping?”
I’m moaning, “Yeah,”

I am sleeping to the sound
of tropical birds and
the incessant chatter
of my family to the backdrop
of twenty four hour reggae music
in bermuda, where, while im awake
im breaking all the rules
and will probably go to jail
for the sake of my father

and where, while im asleep
good lord, am i dreaming.

i have never worked so hard
on the eve of my vacation

i am on the diet
of bacon, chocolate,
coffee, wine and lollipops
when im awake, i am dreaming
while i sleep, good lord,
am I happy

3 thoughts on “My Vacation

  1. When I buried my mom, i recalled my favorite memory of her was waking to the soft clatter of breakfast and coffee being prepared and her talking quietly about life with my grandmother. The most content feeling of home I know… while we were visiting hundreds of miles from where I lived.

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