Woke up tired at half past four,
fell out of bed and right through the door,
went to the kitchen for food or a drink,
ate some spaghetti and talked to the sink.
Flew back upstairs to get dressed for a place
brushed with the hand soap,
used deodorant mace,
combed out my hair with toothpaste and fork,
felt a song coming on and so sang to the cork.
Busted some moves to the pots and the pan.
My neighbors all worried when I sang with the cans.
By then it was nine — my gosh I was late.
I'm supposed to be at lamp school at eight!
I used a banana to call for a lift
(ate the banana when I found out the tip).
Then rocketed through my living room door,
crashed through the wall and the hall and the floor,
tumbled downstairs and grabbed my coat,
yawned at the news and snoozed the remote,
grabbed a bagel that sang in French,
snatched a light saber and a wrench,
rubbed my eyes and became a Hen.
Then woke with a start —

I was dreaming again.