written by: Stanley Wilkin
What if my sight deludes my brain
And shows me things that cannot be,
What if my brain deludes my sight
With shapes and colours distorting light?
What if a chair is not a chair unless I
Name it so, a sky not a sky
Unless I search upward sacrilegiously?
What if my body belongs
Outside of time, in ridges, in riffs, in kaleidoscopes,
Pinging around or forever mute?
What if I die, but am not dead,
Having never been alive
That what was breath was CGI
That what was a heartbeat merely
A mythological god slamming against a drum?
What if cursive heat should become
Transformed into fiery icicles
Fused with snow, yet warming with a solitary glow
Flame and snow-flake fused into one,
The sun evaporating within its aura-
Like a monstrous glacier of nuclear fire?
What if my words are not my words
But belong to speakers in the past
My thoughts not mine, nor yours,
But passing adverts in the electrified air?
What if existence is without shape,
A perishable vapour already dissipating
Unable to form and never formable?
What if none of these words were written
None of these words were read,
Nothing appeared here-
Nothing has happened, or ever does,
Except in your unquiet head?
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