I wake into
an afternoon steeped in dreams
something like Wagner
pumped out of speakers hidden
in bushes, behind mirrors

Far away my father kicks off his covers and wonders where he is, sees people who aren’t there, asks the nurses as they move him back into bed what kind of religion this is. Here I argue with my son about grades, with my wife about money, with myself about love. When everyone’s in bed, I search online for cheap flights.