"His family's 'extremeing'..." The Oneirocriticologist's Notebook: an Illustrated ABC

(Illustrations to come: a work in progress) 

The Prologue 

His family’s "extremeing." 
His kids, who are teeming,
are (most of 'em) beaming. 
Still, "Daddy" is screaming...

at "Mother," who's steaming,
(her parents are seeming
to forgo redeeming).
His colleagues, esteeming...

his meme, have been deeming
to increase their memeing.
)His sister, the judge? She's still 
transition teaming.)

And every last one
of the (bleep)ers is scheming.
So: what foul and frightening  
scenes fill his dreaming?

The Oneirocriticologist's Notebook Entries

“Arm! 
An Arm! 
Who’ll arm the alarm?”
(His dream's of an arm.) 
“Alert the gendarmes!
And, once I’m alone, shall I 
suffer great harm?”

“Bear! 
A bear! 
Ascending the stair!" 
(His dream’s of a bear.) 
“Who’s trespassing there?
Boo! Yoo-hoo! Is that you, Vlad? 
(Lil' Kim wouldn't dare.)”

“Crows! 
These crows! 
Befouling my clothes!”
(His dreams are of crows!) 
“Still…anything goes.
Can't my dirty tricks boomerang, 
don't you suppose?” 

“Dawn! 
It’s dawn! 
Yet they’re still on the lawn.
(He dreams of the dawn.) 
“Am I somebody’s pawn?
Do I vamp through November? 
All Hallows…then…gone?”

“Egg! 
An Egg! 
Extending a leg!
(He dreams of an egg.) 
“They’ll get nowt till they beg!
Ev’ry tactic seems clear. 
The agenda’s what’s vague.” 

“Fire! 
A fire! 
I’ve got to climb higher.”
(His dreams are of fire.) 
“My funeral pyre?
For my failure to…what? 
To constrain my desire?” 

“Ground! 
The ground! 
It’s growing unsound!”
(He dreams of the ground.) 
“Just say, “Nothing was found.
Give ‘em platitudes! (Hope there’s 
enough to go ‘round.)" 

“Hall! 
The hall! 
It’s becoming too small!”
(He dreams of a hall.) 
“Tell them, ‘Visit the mall!’
Hell! That minimum wage buys… 
Oops! Nothing at all.” 

“Ice! 
The ice! 
It’s forming a vice!”
(His dreams are of ice.) 
“Ignore Gore’s advice!
Is a life without polar bears 
all that not nice?"

“Jar! 
The jar! 
It’s leaning too far.”
(He dreams of a jar.) 
“Still, I love being Czar.
Just was wond’ring what year it is…
in Kandahar.”

“Klan! 
The Klan! 
They’re murd’ring that man.”
(He dreams of the Klan.) 
“They kill ‘cuz they can.
Keep your hands off of Kanye, though: 
I’m a big fan.”

“Light! 
The light! 
So blindingly bright!”
(He dreams of the light.) 
“Steer much further right!
Let’s us pray it’s not Socialist
Democrat Night.”

“Moon! 
The moon! 
It’s descending too soon.
(He dreams of the moon.) 
"Some hum; others croon.
Most will lose, nonetheless, lest they 
whistle my tune."

“Noose!
This noose! 
I can’t get it loose.”
(His dream's of a noose.) 
“Is my puss turning puce?
Now they’re saying I’m (shock!) 
sabotaging some truce.” 

“Oil! 
The oil! 
It’s beginning to boil.
(His dream is of oil.) 
“Keep on sifting that soil!
Only, no 'global warming.' 
Say that? You’re disloyal.”

“Pain! 
The pain! 
It’s returning again.”
(His dreams are of pain.) 
“Is that newsy insane?
Put a sock in it, media! 
More Novocain!”

“Queen! 
A queen! 
She’s caught in between.”
(He dreams of a queen.) 
“She’s gifted. She’s keen.
Queer as hell, but don’t tell: 
she’s a U.S. Marine.” 

“Rake! 
The rake! 
It’s becoming a snake.”
(He dreams of a snake.) 
“It’s alive! It’s awake!
Risking lives? Worth the risk 
when there’s billions to make.” 

“Sand! 
The sand! 
Quick! Lend me a hand!
(His dream is of sand.) 
“This is no place to land.
So: I’m chummy with Saudi Arabia. 
Grand!” 

“Thumb! 
My thumb! 
It’s totally numb.” 
(He dreams of his thumb.) 
“Charles Darwin was dumb.
'Tis a world safe for stem cells. 
May my kingdom come!”

“Udder! 
The udder! 
It’s starting to shudder.”
(He dreams of an udder.) 
“Up guns! Down with butter!
(Up creeks call'd Fake News 
with no paddle, no rudder.)” 

“Vine! 
The vine’s 
looking none too benign.”
(He dreams of a vine.) 
“Don’t make waves. I'll be fine.
Vill ve virebomb Tehran? 
Gott, just gimme das sign!”

“Wife! 
Your wife! 
She’s pulling a knife.”
(He dreams of your wife.) 
“With resentment she’s rife.
We will spare her. Though loopy, 
she votes Right to Life.” 

“X! 
An X! 
The site of the wrecks.”
(He dreams of an X.) 
“Do we stick out our necks
‘X’ing [YES], coaxing OPEC 
to trade oil for sex?” 

“Yak! 
A yak 
begins it’s attack.”
(He dreams of a yak.) 
“Am I getting the sack?
You must give me my last four 
(Eight? Forty?) years back.”

“Zoo! 
The zoo! 
It hasn’t a loo.”
(He dreams of the zoo.) 
“So: what do I do?
Zut! I tarnish the Oval. 
I can, thanks to…
Who…?