Gently, Down the Stream
Living the dream, Clark always replies
When I ask how he’s doing
As we pass in the hall on my way to round
Life itself is but a dream, I countered today,
For some reason, and then we both
Started singing row row row your boat in opposite directions
What is the dream? I started wondering
And why is it always phrased ironically
Eyebrows arched like mantises
You know the dream— suburban bliss
With a lovely wife and enviable kids,
An Audi and secret reasons to go on living
But the best part of the dream
Is getting to spend 8 hours a day here
With you in this godforsaken place
We both laugh and ignore
The lingering sadness of trying to share
A loneliness that can only be your own
Yes, life didn’t turn out as expected
Yes, there were detours and coffee shops and setbacks
The whole experience, on balance, was a little disappointing
But we don’t want to create a scene,
Scare the children, draw the attention of the authorities.
So you wink and pretend this was always the plan.
Life is but a dream, I insisted, silently,
To myself this time, dreams wrapped
Inside dreams swaddled inside others
Like the singularity just before the Big Bang
Had to be situated somewhere, right?
Universes cradled within the infinite tangle of others
Even the rowing is a delusion
The current gets us all there
Regardless. Steering barely matters
Living the dream, I say whenever anyone asks,
Shoulders fasciculating after rowing
Upstream for all these years
Merrily
Merrily
Merrily
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