
Strange Dreams
I could not decipher the reality of you: For you were once, the impossible dream. In the city with no time and the shadows Of past lives, melded into walls that Couldn’t talk of your history. Ibsen said, Temptations are manifold in this word. In the city of grime and Inclement weather That may or may not wash away uncertainty Before the night takes hold of Your morality; before the morning rises And burns away the poets moon And workers scramble from their beds, To go to a job that comes before their dreams. Dollar-baby-generation, with all those poems By Sylvia Plath, unread on the shelf. Yearning for learning, musing about losing / Chains & shackles that sink a soul like A stone to the bottom of nothingness. In the words of Jim Morrison; This is the strangest life I have ever known. A Poetry Showcase from Robin McNamara