Ouroboros before us
Ouroboros behind
In endless genesis
As the real unwinds
With a flash daylight devours
Last night’s slithering tale
Eleven flying elevators
Thought-trains jumping their rails
Inverted and bent closed-circuit events
All mere fragments, whatever they meant,
Wherever they went…
Well, it’s forever now or never
A watch in rivers of now
And it’s up to the woken one
To make sense of it all somehow
Is it a play?
Or is it a bird?
We’ve heard rumors of humor
Dressed in gowns of the absurd
And after the loss of laughter
You’ll grasp about every third word
Faster than a loco motive
With a head full of steam
Well, you may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not
I’m the Dream
We’re still here in our hypersphere
On tradewinds of imagery
Inklings along fractured frontiers
Scribbling provisional memories
That’s just us in juxtaposition
That’s just us in juxtaposition
Slipping in the wake of the stream
Sounds wrapped around recursions
Sounds wrapped around recursions
Sounds wrapped around recursions
Narratives tugging at extremes
There were double-twist contortionists
Double-takes and deja vu
You can call me a hopeless optimist
But a miracle’s always overdue
Is it a play?
Or is it a bird?
We’ve heard rumors of humor
Dressed in gowns of the absurd
And after the loss of laughter
You’ll grasp about every third word
Faster than a loco motive
With a head full of steam
Well, you may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not
I’m the Dream
It’s a Sphinx without a riddle
An oubliette without a hatch
A bow without a fiddle
Or a torch without a match
It’s a coil without a center
An explosion with no force
A device with no inventor
A serpent without a source
Is it a play?
Or is it a bird?
We’ve heard rumors of humor
Dressed in gowns of the absurd
And after the loss of laughter
You’ll grasp about every third word
Faster than a loco motive
With a head full of steam
Well, you may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not
I’m the Dream
Ouroboros before us
Ouroboros behind
In endless genesis
As the real unwinds