Waking From Dreaming with a Stream of Consciousness Prose Poem Stuck in My Head that I Scribbled Down in the Dark on a Notebook I Keep on a Table by the Bed for Those Nights When I Wake with a Stream of Consciousness Prose Poem Stuck in My Head

Yesterday, I ate the last garlic stuffed olive in the jar and wondered if they make some mixed drink with garlic stuffed olives, but it sounds gross, but I don’t drink alcohol and maybe it would make a great martini and I think back to summers, as a kid and my sisters and I would make sandwiches with white bread. peanut butter, jelly, pickles, celery, relish, mayonnaise and my sisters would add catsup and I would add mustard and we would eat them and say how delicious they were and I wondered why supper had to always be so boring and predictable and why in all of my quarantine dreams I’m rescuing people and it is always in the strangest circumstances and how I had been dreaming that I needed to go sit with a sick friend who caught this damn virus and my wife said NO that it would be terribly unsafe and she was right, yet, the other day, she said that if our youngest son’s wife’s mother cannot get to Pittsburgh from North Dakota in time for their baby that is due in May, we will drive up to help and I will have to babysit two spoiled beagles and how our son and his wife are so excited to have their first child and they already know it is girl and that will make our third granddaughter to four grandsons and in my mind everything needs to be balanced so their next child needs to be a girl and then I think how impatient I am, because she is still pregnant with their first child and I am planning the gender of their second child and last night, our son posted a picture of chocolate ice cream with cherries in a chocolate waffle cone, because he is doing the grocery shopping and since he has been doing the grocery shopping he has gone off his diet and has quit losing weight and his mother and I worry about him, because on Carol’s father’s side none of the men live pass 60 and maybe the gene will skip to the female side and he got the damn heart attack gene and right now we can’t attend funerals and it would be horrible that if he dies of a heart attack at 50 like Carol’s father did and no one can bury him and we will all have to mourn alone at home, but it doesn’t bother the dead, because in the next world they understand and it only matters to the living, but that still makes me sad and I wish I could write better in the dark, because it is hard to read scribbles written in the dark in the middle of the night and then I remember I have another jar of garlic stuffed olives stashed on a back shelf and I decide I will open them for my afternoon snack with my berry flavored immune drink and somehow this makes me happy.

5-1-20