Last night he had a dream
That he was looking in the sun
During all the rain
And all the tools were in the shed rusting into rusty rust

And a big, weathered, broken-in pickup truck
Plowed backwards through the lawn
The lawn he could see through the window
That in reality wasn’t there
But there it was
There it was
The other truck
Axle deep in the dirt
All four fat tires spinning

And holy shit what is that guy thinking, he thought
And, and, and when his wife gets home, he thought,
She’s going to kill me
And I don’t mean “kill me” like, like I’m just saying that
Like I’m just imagining that
Like I’m just dreaming that
I mean she’s gonna kill me
And, and, he keeps telling himself to wake up, wake up, wake up
But he’s not asleep

He can’t get up
He can’t lift his head
He can’t protect her flower bed
And, and, and she’s insane when it comes to things like this, he thinks
He knows it
He’s lived it
Things like how he tends to her shrubbery
Or doesn’t or
Or, or, or, sometimes, how he totally ignores the lawn she has had manicured
Just hoping he’d notice
But he didn’t
He’s sorry
But he didn’t
And now he’s sorry
And, and, and now he’s stuck
In bed
All alone
While another guy is ploughing her garden