You can change history, a real talent.
You can rearrange reality so that
Even the true thinkers bend.
Your way of rethinking and reliving
Moments with a creative twist
Makes C.S. Lewis look like a loser
Who just couldn't convince.
The Jabberwock was a joker-walk
Compared to your re-viewing.
In your self-penumbra, your shadow world,
You rule like a secret dictator of a nation
That sees what you see, hears what you hear
And knows what you know. The pile-on
Is daunting and diffusing and who
Can compete with the stone wall
Of sure knowledge that exists in
Your intentions and your hopes?
Who can fight to knock that down?
Who can pin-prick that bubble,
So tenuous and gossimer-like
That even a slight gust or turn of lip
Can explode it all in a poof felt
Round your world like a gunshot
Or a tsunami or a soft tear that fell
From a cheek to the breakfast table?
Who would do that?
Not me. I want to be you
To see the world as you do.
As if I were you.

02/02/2011

Posted on 02/02/2011
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