Bed battles with my little brother. |
I remember Agog on the wrong side of the bed. He was my little brother--he kicked me in the head almost every morning when the sun began to rise; often I would find his little toes between my eyes. I remember Agog hogging all the blankets, too. Mom would wish us a good night, but ere the night was through Agog would manage to get the blanket and the sheet; I would wake up thinking I was sleeping in the street. One time Agog had a dream when I was half asleep; because of all his thrashing, the bedding was a heap. Agog was just skin and bones yet somehow found a way, to cause me to fall out of bed like a lump of clay. O Agog, you had your side of bed in which to doze. But how many times I had to reckon with your toes! In the morning ‘fore the sun would bless us with its heat, I would get a wake up call from little brother feet. My one aim was to attain the sleep of R.E.M. Yet brother Agog had own of-the-night anthem. Instead of R.E.M, Agog had his own notion; it turned into R.A.M.--rapid Agog motion. I recall the many dreams of football now and then. Playing Agog through the night--he was the last of ten. With my other brothers I played football in the light; but Agog had his own way to block me in the night. I remember how I used to long for my own spread, since so many times Agog was off-sides in our bed. In those days of contact sleep when bedsides would collide, how I longed to keep my manic brother on his side! Lines 28 |