I’ve been sleeping
lately
looking for a dream
the place
familiar
my dog there
and my father
though neither knew
the other
both having lived
decades apart
my mother is cooking
I can smell her sauce
simmering
my grandmother
is kneading dough
for her cavatelli
Johnny and I
both get a piece
to roll
in our hands
before eating
my father stands
holding the dog’s leash
and before their walk
he pats my mother
on the ass
and says
that’s why
I married her
she giggles
like she always does
at that joke
and though it should be
Charlie
taking the dog out
it is my father
his white shirt sleeves
rolled up
my grandmother sings
some Neapolitan song
Harry is there
laughing
George Robert
my sister Theresa
is coming
later
with the kids
a holiday
maybe
or just Sunday dinner
at two o’clock
Uncle Mike
from New Jersey
is there
my cousin Carolyn
Aunt Mary too
and Uncle Frank
watching Westerns
on TV
though he was dead
long before
Uncle Joe
with his cigar
in mouth
is dealing cards
Aunt Bernie Cousin Betty
are setting the table
Uncle Dominic
is mixing gin rickeys
Charlie is reading
The New York Times
on the back porch
my Grandfather
picking tomatoes
in the backyard
and suddenly
all the people
I’ve loved
are in one place
one house
on Lyon Place
and we will sing
my mother will dance
to Lou Monte
Calypso Italiano
George will know
all the words
and everyone
will laugh
the whole day
long