The speaker describes a dream in which things slip away one after another. It begins with practical items: papers, change, dinner. Then the losses get stranger and larger. The morning goes missing, then a cover, then the speaker's own head. The list is short and flat, with each loss given its own line, so it feels like a pile of things dropping without any fuss.
The last line changes the tone. The sons are lost too, and they are described as "nothing like me." That could mean the speaker no longer recognizes them, or that they have grown into people unlike him. Either way, the loss feels the most personal, and the word "neglectful" in the title hints at guilt. The mood is uneasy and quietly sad. It feels like the confusion of a bad dream, but also like a worry about being a parent who has lost hold of things that mattered.