there was some sort of street festival going on that they called america grateful day

last night before i went to bed
i was looking at before and after chin augmentation videos
because that is the only facial change surgery
that i've ever considered, even briefly
i don't have a weak jaw
and i thrust it out in a way that makes it more prominent
which is very bad for my neck, according to my chiropractor
in the process of searching these videos
i came across angelina jolie's before and after
and that cured me right up
and then i looked at videos of her pregnant
because, what the hell, and i'd only even known
she was pregnant
from the people magazine
in the grocery line
and i see how she influenced pregnancy fashion
and i realized yet again
how like anti-celebrity i am
anti-fashion, anti-trend, anti-copy-ing
i don't even want to read things if i'm afraid i might
be too heavily influenced
why i never read barthelme, i guess
i was supposed to want to write that way

so maybe all that had to do with my dreams
i don't know
but i was at the family dairy
moving crates of milk
talking about my grandfather
(who had founded the dairy)
and they asked me not to accept delivery
for anything unusual
because these festival days are often used as an excuse
for companies to send extra (and unordered) shipments
so i was vigilant
but two gift bags were delivered that i let them come through
wondering if that would be an issue
but noticing the slide sandals, of a dr. schol's type
in my european size 40
that i wanted
they were white with some form of type on them
and that was not the only unreadable type in the dream

i went to see my niece
who in the dream was 14 and pregnant
and not a mature 14 (she seemed more like 10)
her mother and grandmother were all smiles
and she didn't even seem to understand how
pregnancy occurred
and i was mad and sad and wanting to do something
but there didn't seem to be anything to do

and there was a tiny kitten
small enough to fit in my hand
who i watched scaling (with difficulty) the side
of a stainless steel sports car (old trans am, maybe)
climbing in the window
and i ran over, reached my hand in the window
unlocked it, and scooped up my kitten
the engine was idling the driver's side door was open
clearly the car would have departed with my kitten
and i couldn't bear it
on my way back to the house i scooped up another one
both were mewling for food and to be put down
once inside i was trying to feed them
but this thing was frightening me
maybe it was a small dog or a large rat
but it had a huge keloided scar across it's back
that looked like a compressed pink scrubby
and it seemed to be hissing and foaming at the mouth
it might be rabid

then i was fixing up an apartment in a building my mom owned
sorting through furniture
there was a desk almost hidden under a built-in
that had beautiful metallic sheen grain
it almost looked like tiger stripes
and then other furniture
which was visible and clearly inspired by the desk
a set of tacky tiger print bedside tables, a not-quite-matching
but equally tacky side table
those had to go
i was fitting bookcases into available alcove space
finding every children's book and fairytale
then going outside and arranging baby palm trees
thinking:
i'm not your average person when it comes to decorating either

then i was at the street festival
there was an exhibit set up for an artist i recognized
i was there with someone (i'm not sure who)
and the little boy of the girl i had the thing with
he was running around, saying whatever
and this person i was with
who might have been cycling through people
because i can't tell you man or woman, friend or foe
was asking me about the artist
whose name was something like david fein or feinz davi
and i knew, but the lettering was upside down and backwards
which i can read, but then somehow twisted again
i was trying to explain
the attendant was talking to the other person about the kid:
wow he just says whatever
and i'm like:
yeah, so he doesn't have a filter, tell us about the art
and i'm trying to read, but i can't
and both he and the other are talking to me
but i can't hear, i have a hearing aid
talk into the apparatus, i say, irritated
and everyone just keeps asking each other
what are you doing to celebrate your gratefulness
it's some participatory thing
like religious testifying or show-and-tell
and i can't hear: i don't need this crap
and i go back home

i have notebooks i have quasi-stolen from a donation pile
inside one is a description by a man of the woman he loves
she always wore these pajamas with lacy panties
is the only line i remember
and suddenly i have the outfit
she didn't wear the pants, but i do
and though it's meant to be pajamas
it looks on me like something almost formal
with a high collar
multi-layer effect in black and gray
and it fits perfectly
i pull my hair up
and there is a collection of small black cameos
i put in earrings
and i pin one to the lapel
and somehow
my stepfather is there
although he isn't my stepfather
but then no one's been realistic in this dream
and somehow he has given me these things
the clothes
the jewelry
tracked them down or something
and i breathe a deep, satisfied sigh, look over at him in the window seat
and say:
i am so very grateful