The Sleeping Man At the Picnic
"The Sleeping Man at the Picnic"
What dreams this man has
to escape a world
where his humanity
is a contagion
soldier ants swagger
holding gangster guns
he’s counting numbers
to avoid the dream
of the one he
shares with
the innocence
of children
Outside the turmoil
we are a pin prick
of light in the
eye of God’s needle
Inside us
the threads of
a road to an
interior universe
so much vaster
unexplored
Our lives
are optical
illusions
We are
all sleeping
at the Picnic
Lost
in the purpose of dreaming
Searching
for the rhetoric in meaning
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
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