The problem with dreaming

Sitting next to my brandy snifter,
I wonder why I have no silk pajamas.
A cigar would be the exclamation
point in the quintessential image
of western decadence.
Where’s the fireplace?
Or my condo on the beach?
I’ll just have to wish
away my modern problems or
settle for the friends couch
in the Midwest. A cat
snuggles on my knee, drooped
over like a panther napping
on a tree limb after its
kill of dry kibble.

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