dizzygirl

in the dream i am all thumbs
helpless as i watch the wedding party
sit down to an unmade table, salt shakers
in their water carafes, not enough chairs,
a rental contract littering the flower vases,
and oh my god, where is the salad, salad for 100,
and no plates set out, no lettuce mixed, no sliced
avocados, the waitstaff gone, disappearing
into the evening for stolen cigarettes, a chat
with the valet parkers, guests pouring
their own wine, looking around for someone
to straighten the tablecloths, and why this
receipt linking ink on my napkin, and a million
other wreckages unfolding inch by inch.

in the dream, i am dizzygirl, the perilous center
of a whirlpool, collisions, upended furniture,
the metal scrape of table legs against a wood floor,
everything steps from chaos, disassembly, near-undoing,
and it's terrible to stand there watching, mute,
stuck there with a clipboard in my hands and
all the boxes unchecked, noticing the empty water glasses,
a pepper shaker where it shouldn't be, the slow drama
unfolding and impossible to stop except by waking.

Except I don't want to.
Because even in the nightmare that is this dream
I have no choice but to ride alongside my despair,
cozy up to the tragedy, let my eyes fall
to the floor as the room begins to shatter at the seams.
There's nothing to do but wait for the balance to tip,
for the weight of this disaster to swell and explode,
and standing there frantic and anxious, I feel an odd thrill,
a leveling shadowy calm that washes through the room
reminding me that I simply cannot hold it all.

In the dream, I fall under the spell of this momentum,
and I am relieved when things finally split apart,
when disaster strikes, the darkness
bearing its teeth down at last.