I dreamed that, as day rose
above the window-sill,
an old clock radio
danced to life,
spilled
bad news,
woke
me
up.
I lay then in bed
some minutes
when
I had an idea for
making a film, so
I made a semi- rectangle
with both hands,
the way directors do
and looked through..
The scene
was of a baby comfortable,
awake, but not distressed
in a basinet, foreground.
A landline telephone was ringing.
In background, a mixed group
of folks relaxed,
engaged at their
cellphones and such as that.
The telephone rang again,
no one moved.
Ring.
Ring-ring.
Ring.
Ring-ring.
Rrrrrring.
This continued until,
with a sudden shout,
the baby cried,
“What the hell is that all about!”
jumped up
and answered the phone.
“Hello?”
he said, balance unsteady,
diaper crisp – neat – tidy.
A nasal voice came
on the other end, claiming,
“This is Joe’s Better Duct Cleaning,”
and …
the baby slammed the phone down.
At that point
I woke up,
the radio was on,
I listened to the news awhile…
Robert On The Air 