She looks at me, doesn’t know my name.
I say, “It’s me.”
She says, “Who would that be?”
& mutters a soliloquy.
She points at the glass to clear her throat,
As I take off my woolen coat,
& pull up a wooden chair,
& look at her ancient hair.
I tell her that I’m doing good,
& Mona’d come out if she could.
& she points and looks at the sky,
& says a scarecrow just passed by,
& I didn’t know what to do,
I’m just a boy she knew.
The room became so tense
She said things that made no sense.
About a man with a broom and a flute,
Who looked real good in a suit.
& I asked her which man,
& she said it was the one
Who fades into the evening sun.
I saw Death at the bedroom door
& fell to the wooden floor,
“Do you remember anything?
The morning’s when you would sing,
In the garden with the sun,
& laugh with everyone?”
(This dream that we’re in,
Is stuck in a coffin,
It’s not one that we choose,
But it’s just the one we’re use to).
& she said, “Who are you?”
“Mama, I’m the boy you knew.”
Gray and Mars
Daily Quote: Whatever you can do, or dream you can, Begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it, Begin it now.
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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