Napping

I took a posthumous phone call
in a dream. I realize this
is perfectly ordinary.

I realize this is
a form of weakness,

taking phone calls
from the dead.

*


The Dadaists seemed
to be worried
about the opening up
conceptualist soap
problem, more than you
are probably
worrying about
the "conceptualist soap
problem," soi-disant,
tonight. I thought
about it briefly
earlier today,
but the "problem"
burst like a bubble.


*

Probably you are worried
about cereal or love
or health or if you put
the stamps someplace
you will ever really remember
or whether that pink ring
around the toilet rim
means something ominous
about that water you're drinking
downstairs or worrying
about finding some other
form of shelter
(besides love) to place
around your
fragile, disappearing body

and your soul


*

I mean I know
you're not weak.

I'm not saying that.

Your soul might even be
Terminator-like

in comparison
to your body.

And probably it took
you many years
or even decades
to get it that way.

Still, I know you don't even
realize how much

you worry about
your Terminator-like soul,

or how you look at it
over and over

in every mirror you pass
in your dreams.