words driven in parallel dreams
as the object becomes the subject
r.e.m. flashes form an older life,
words told today and heard yesterday
living in strange times, maybe not your times
not your family or friends-
dreams create your memories,
yesterday's trip to Chicago
is today's wristwatch you saw
on a girl's hand when you both waited to
walk out of the same tram,
last night's kiss became tomorrow's kid
and again notes floating in the air
wrote your first song
opening in London's gig,
as you so bravely interpret it to be hard years of study
they were gone in a flash of a moth's fly-
"Adieu"
it might be 5 minutes, 2 hours, 7 years,
it might be never or an eternity,
but dreams are real, my friend
they can give birth to people, kill them or take them
far away from their homes,
they can be your lost poems from high school,
your lost tears from your first love affair,
your words driven from your mouth on a piece of paper-
dreams can be God or a storm
dreams that you follow
or that follow after you-
the question is, my friend:
can you make this trip?