Waking Into The Dream

Slept ok lying in bed as sun comes up

first poem of the day maybe the last

hard to say but when I catch my mind

first thing before it grows hair of this

and that seems to be a good way to start

whatever adventures/disasters/ general

nuisance of keeping breathing/hunting

gathering/ staying alive staying alive

more and more I wish it would just end/

the world not cooperating with my hopes

and dreams but then why should my life

be any different/I watch videos of police

chases and arrests the police just the other

side of that coin/more fortunate more smart

than the crooks they catch/but when they

nab the perp and after a brief struggle they

all relax as if the play is over and they’ve

taken their bows sometimes remarkably 

peaceful at that/everyone’s performed their 

designated roles: cops and robbers/ cowboys 

and Indians/corporate execs and bag ladies/

Communists and Capitalists/the good the bad

and don’t forget the ugly/not games/reality

it’s called but isn’t it interesting that people

fall into categories as if designated like in

Huxley’s Brave New World/the cops are 

Gammas and the crooks are Epsilons for

example/prison camp inmate tattoos will

soon be all the rage/eliminates casual speak

because you can see the mark on the forehead 

and know instantly if you want to engage/

saves time for the important things like checking 

your phone to see if your memes have gained 

traction/don’t laugh folks because if Control

had their way we’d soon be there and the only

heroes left will be the outlaws that still have a

shred of dignity/living on the outskirts like the

quarter million people that live off of the

Mexico City dump.