Last Night I Dreamed
By: Lucas Scheelk
Inspired by T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”
Last night I dreamed of
Men standing by the windowpane
Amongst the yellow fog.
The windows were the display cases,
Varieties of flavors,
Of whatever the customer desired.
Last night I dreamed I was
A twink named Michelangelo,
Standing by the window closest to the door.
The youngest were placed closest to the door,
Catcalling the suit-bound
To buy their way into dinner or into luxury.
Last night I dreamed that
My back rested on the windowpane
Amongst the yellow fog.
One of my regulars showed up,
A gangly man in an oversized coat.
He knew that I specialized in stress relief.
Last night I dreamed I
Greeted him as I would a lover.
“Prufrock,” I growled, “Welcome back.”
The doorman explained the rules to him.
“He’s with me,” I immediately replied,
And the doorman let him inside.
Last night I dreamed he
Stumbled at his request for a blowjob.
He left the money on the table as I removed his belt.
It wasn’t until I sank to my knees
That he got hard, and it wasn’t until
I took out his cock that he really looked at me.
Last night I dreamed that
I humored his whispers, comparing me to women,
By not shaming his romantic dreams.
I removed his cock from my mouth
And devoured his lips
In an attempt to shut him up.
Last night I dreamed of
The moment after he climaxed,
How different of a man he looked
With the exception of his bald spot.
Then he zipped his trousers,
And he turned back into Prufrock.
Last night I dreamed of
The sweet nothings Prufrock said as he left.
My other customers do not indulge me in that way.
They play the game as I do.
Had this been not a dream, or if he were real,
It wouldn’t need to be a game at all.
