I watched as the reality of bloated and overfloated scenes
infiltrated my dreams,
filling them up and then busting them at the seams,
spilling my half collected thoughts and memories into a puddle
that grew to a stream.
And the stream came to a roar,
the last gasping breaths of my dreamland ideas
spilled out on the floor,
gasping for air like dying fish,
flopping around with their flying wish
for one more minute,
one more chance to live,
a fantasy towards which to strive
But the concrete actuality took my drive,
and the sun that I couldn't ignore shone down,
evaporating the dreams back into air and sound,
to be rained and sprinkled and poured onto me again
as the swollen clouds of night return to be my friend.
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