Are You Going to Eat This?
after Lynn Emmanuel

Start with a dog. This dog. This dog wanting out

of this dream. Then I see my eyes, blinded by windows, a bobby

with a talking gun, more butter and more, smearing the box,

the bureau.

Stuffing her mouth, a servant, still. We tell the dream. We tell

the maids and waitresses, we don their black aprons.

I want to ask the stove, the glaring succotash, the hated

cot. Light, even

light is a dreary guest. I see that first.

_________________

This draft was written as part of my first assignment for my first packet at NEC -- an imitation poem. This poem is an imitation of Lynn Emmanuel's "Dream in Which I Meet Myself". The title and last sentence of the poem are taken directly from Lynn's piece.