Oneiric


They are going down now

to the streets, to the rivers, the beaches.

They leave their beds and their houses

to stream out into the open air

driven by what obscure impulse we cannot tell.

See how they stare at the pebbles in their hands

turning them in their palms, studying each facet

or stand together in close observation of a parking meter.

Is this the truth that dreams yield?

Is this the secret knowledge we all seek?

Tomorrow I will go to the library

I will borrow a different kind of book:

one on electrical circuitry

another on how to build kitset aeroplanes.

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