Morpheus's Preposterous Proposals

Does falling asleep in the moonlight render you stark-raving, howling mad??

Or merely addle your brain..like using a potato masher on your gray matter??

Back in the late self-absorbed 80's,

My 50something year-old mother worked amidst worldly-aware young people.

Gossip transformed Mom's Cherokee heritage feathers hanging on her rearview mirror

Into a edgy roach clip;

Her bottle of innocent generic Tylenol

Became nefarious "blue bombers,"

Generating offers of a few bucks for a pill!

If Mom had been more predatory,

Her wallet could have grown thick.

Fast forward about thirty years...

Mom is in a wheelchair and no longer working.

Her overworked caregiver, Morpheus seeks to devour me.

I begin falling asleep while standing

And my job is the first casualty.

Laughter,

A last defense of sanity.

In jest,

I suggest

I rent a lift van

And pack Mom up.

We'll head to Colorado

And escape our mounding debt

Through clouds of cannabis.

Then, one night

I succumb to sweet, natural Morpheus

For a luxurious few hours...

And dream of Mom's one-hour healthcare aide

Whispering a shameful secret to me...

Mom has resorted to selling her prescriptions

On the ominous black market!

Through cupped hands,

The faithful worker discreetly reveals text messages

From my cellphone.

(Surely a dreamlike delusion..

An 80-something woman texting

On my TracFone

As I had set her up with accessible tech...

And caught her trying to switch off the TV

With the fan remote

And dialing a friend with the calculator!)

I search the texts,

Expecting to see her pricing her morphine...

But only see her prescription Lac-Hydrin lotion

Offered in under-the-table sales!)

Upon awaking I tell Mom

Of my midnight madness.

She savors the moment of hilarious relief

From our impending financial ruin,

And quips,

"I might as well have been selling Ben Gay on the street!"