Fevers Frenzied Dreams - Poem by Patti Masterman
When I'm ill inside this body, the dreams turn eclectic,
Fantastic montages inside that dark passageway:
When I had the whooping cough,
The Death- lives- in- your- lungs- now virus
I dreamed one feverish night, of a place entirely white-
Every wall and piece of furniture and clothing and utensil
Everything there, a bright, unsullied white.
Probably should have been wondering, am I dead yet?
And next I found myself on a shuttle, about to do it's regular
Flight to the moon, for the spendy,
Interplanetary travel craving sort of man:
I sat down next to a coin operated newspaper dispenser-
And I inserted some coins
A noisy vacuum came on to suck the coins down
Before they could clamber back out
Under the zero gravity of the space bound ship.
I always thought I should patent that quick
Before they actually invent it.
During a brief illness, I once dreamed of walking to the front door
Opening it, I sensed a huge gust of wind swirling around
I tried to hold onto the door frame but it was no use
It grabbed me- whisked me up in the air and away, twenty feet high-
I gave up the ghost then and finally woke up!
Comments about Fevers Frenzied Dreams by Patti Masterman
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You