there was not enough Revlon to reverse
all the signs of aging
and staying in the bath for far too long.
I found it easier to smile.
I went through dentists like tissue paper,
because I just couldn't resist the urge
to snap my jaws
and send them shaking down my throat, whole.
In my alligator dream,
I was too large to flush down the toilet.
As a result, I was able to occupy
any apartment I wanted.
The heating bills, however, were enormous,
and the water kept shorting out the space heaters.
I lost interest in reading,
and all the other stupid shit I used to love.
All the wasted time!
I could have been squabbling with other alligators
over the bloated, stinking carcass of some unlucky waterside creature,
and making off with my share, triumphant.
That is what I did in my dream.
I used no fork and spoon.
I declined to chew my food.
I relieved myself in the water and made no bones about it.
Ever the lady, I laid eggs like some batshit brood hen,
and when they hatched,
I allowed them to express themselves
and raise themselves
because alligator mothers do not helicopter.
I woke up grinning.
I grabbed the inattentive lover at my side and shook the shit out of her,
"What the fuck?!?" she screamed, stumbling to her feet.
She grabbed her clothes--and on impulse, some Aspercreme--
and was out of there, rubbing her arm and cursing.
I liked being an alligator.
It gave me a lot of permission,
and I didn't care if people liked me or even tasted good.
I miss my powerful tail
and my short ridiculous legs that never needed shaving.
So when you disturb my bath,
coming in without knocking and asking some retarded question,
realize that I am not the same anymore.
Channel the small mammal you are built around,
and read the reply in my eyes
as they look back at you
from just above the surface.
Author's note: In reality, I have no desire to be an alligator; I would have to be an Aveeno-gator, and I don't go near the water unless there is foaming bath soap in it. I would get kicked right out of Alligator Finishing School.