What is reality?
Your reality is not mine.
I saw the leaves you saw the trees
bound by a state of personal theories.
The ground is hard
can you disagree?
Of course why not
you sink in the sand.
The sky is red
I painted the clouds blue,
crazy or delusional
spare me your conclusions.
the skies the limit–
whoever said that forgot to breathe
or dreamed like a madwoman
eating dust as if sugar.
II
I trace the seams of an old dress,
sad thing, a wash towel now,
only yesterday I wore it for men
Ha, they thought it was a towel!
The state I’m in does not listen
your rubbish remind me of moldy bread,
I could eat you and never understand
why you never said “hello.”
Have you gone bonkers?
I sure haven’t,
I throw spoons at blank walls,
better than a fearful old goon.
I crash into mailboxes
set wrappers on fire
you look as if I’m insane,
but hush, I’m more real than you.
