Waking Dream

This poem brought to you by 32 hours without sleep.

It seems inanimate objects

move

and then return to place

like parked cars in parking lots of parks

where people walk their dogs

on treadmills

through a fog that hasn’t lifted

though the sun came up

and has been shining all day long

while no one seems to notice

how the clouds turned to flee

because

my mind is racing while it’s standing still

it hasn’t left the spot it stopped to sit

to catch up on the day’s events

intentionally blocking

all the trains of thought

from jumping off the track

launched by pennies

which I gave you just to see what I could glean

in information that pertained

to why you tossed them all

so carelessly away

in frivolous disdain of order

all to show delightfully how chaos came to be

a tangent causing idle minds

to fly

in unrestrained exploratory fascination

never to be captured by the strings we trimmed away.

Author's Note

A run-on sentence of the most glorious variety!

Reviews

[Helrac]

I felt like I was reading a steady flow of thoughts that should feel chaotic but was just so natural and easy. Very nice.