I want to wake up when I want
And then slowly get to my feet.
I want to have a breakfast
That is very much like a treat.
I want to dawdle over my coffee
And take lazy, leisurely stock.
And, I want to do all of this
Without waking to a clock.

For I hate that awful buzzing
That it takes to shake me awake.
I find the racket ruins dreams
And is too much for me to take.
I want to sit where late morning
Sends its sweet shine in on me
While I sup and sip and dine
Like a member of royalty.

Oh, I am not so snooty myself
That I don’t prepare this repast
With my own two clever hands
And at that, amazingly fast.
It’s almost like my hands want
To hide from my waking mind
That the meal I am having is not
Not the made by Ritz-Carlton kind.

I want to waken to cognizance
In a particularly decadent way.
I find it totally disgusting to
Rush madly into any given day.
I’d sit in smoking jacket and slippers
If I had such magazine attire.
And if it were chilly upon rising
I would magically manifest a fire.

Of course I don’t have a fireplace
To go right along with plain jammies
So instead of brocade robes and such
I very short of mystical whammies.
I can’t witch up this storybook stuff
Of class A, high-class pomposity.
But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t wish
To have it all appear before me.

I came down to make brunch,
Early on
In the afternoon.
I cracked the eggs
And lit the stove,
My dog limped up beside me.
A three legged beast of
Enormous size
Humbled by
The lack of limbs.
I fried the bacon,
But threw no scraps,
Though I was her support.

I close my eyes in crowded rooms
Filtering through the voices
Each telling its own story
Some booming with laughter
Others soft and sweet
Then those ridden with terror
In a visionless world
I enter these tales
Taking role of passive observer
Into the auditory jungle

Marmalade where are you now? In
the jar on the breakfast table -
preserved for all to see but gradually
going down - until there's nothing left
of you or centre or top or bottom
only a brush tail, maybe two as
your friend was with you - when you
were put inside, I remember how you
and all of us cried, it was quite a
squeeze getting you both in but
finally it was done and the lid
firmly put in place - one after another
a sad face wedged against the glass -
only temporary as all things come to pass

Pancakes
and french toast.

She had a sweet tooth
for mornings
laying flat
on her back.

Just like yours,
cotton wrinkles
indented on
freckles.

Saliva soaked
collarbones,
last nights
tequila
on your tongue.

He’d roll you over,
breakfast taco.
Kiss your neck,
turn it purple.

Smirk covered coffee,
smoke lingering
'round
chocolate covered
sleepy eyes.

All you've ever known,
simple sweets
and bacon grease;
she kept you
on your'
toes.

"I'll be back for the summer,"
and he'll pretend
you’re more
than just a morning
of goodbyes.

You usually make breakfast,
But this morning you were in bed.
To find your arms around me,
On your shoulder lies my head.
You normally don't use perfume,
So I breathe in the human smell,
Your arms around me get tighter,
Longing, is what our actions yell.
I nuzzle my face to your collarbones,
Your face buried in my hair.
I pulled your ear and said,
"Make breakfast, I'm hungry.
We can just share."
But you laughed as you bit my ear,
"But I'm already having it.
You're my breakfast in bed."

I want to be thin as a whisper,
To be feline and ****, a cat with long whiskers,
To have length and width but no depth at all,
Not one bit of fat and to walk model tall,
I’ll take drugs, gobble Kleenex, drink only weak tea
Whatever it takes, to not ever be me.

I want to be loved like a pillow, feathered and light,
Held close to your cheek, cuddled all night,
To be soft squished and moulded into all kinds of lovers,
A prop up, a padding, a bump under the covers,
A cushion encased in a bright burst of stars,
I can’t wait to be normal, I’m slightly bizarre.

I want to be lost in crowd of loud celebration,
To be swept up and away in a mass of flirtation,
To be jostled and felt up, the hands of rude strangers,
A joyous outburst, wet kissing ex-changers,
To abandon my will, flee from restraint,
I can’t be, I could be, I am what I ain't.