It was a hot summer,
but even hotter than it should be,
I was sick with a fever of a hundred and three

Mom was worried because it wouldn’t break,
I slept upstairs in the living room
on the long grey vinyl sofa…
even in July,
it’s synthetic plastic smoothness gave me chills

I was both cold and hot,
sweated under a blanket for three days and two nights…
oblivious to the household goings on
which surrounded me
a I lay in the Pink’s center next to the dining room

In and out of sleep,
I drifted timelessly,
plagued with the same dream,
that over and over again,
like a old LP,
whose needle skips endlessly
appeared in my third eye while I slept

As best as I can remember
it was a different time,
perhaps ancient
and I was beyond my years in a position of importance,
not important, like “look at me,”
but a high station of responsibility…
demands from others

Lots of people counting on me to do the right thing,
to be fair and just,
making proper decisions,
with accurate punctuality
void of any errors

My job was to make sure everyone in the world ate,
that there was ample food for all living on Earth

Throughout the dream
the numbers of mouths kept multiplying,
making my task harder and harder
When one group was taken care of,
another sprang up,
hungrier and needier than the last
…and this kept going on,
and on and on,
and I never caught up

There was no reprieve,
my fever stayed high,
and the dream continued replaying

I’ve had the same dream a couple more times
and then I grew up

I wonder today if I’m living the dream?