A Date With Sister M. #2

 

I have a question. What if the real square

One is not the one we´re living in? What

if we´re living in a real Truman Show, a

made up reality based on a Wizard-of-Oz

manifestation?

 

Suspend belief for a moment. Doesn´t it

Make sense, given what we know about

how infinite the universe is, that, since

there is life here, that there must be life

elsewhere? Is the square one we´re going

to experience a truth that has been

hidden by agents of control for decades?

 

The certainty of point of view in the middle

Of uncertainty, chaos, change, is like a life

preserver made of cement. Those that

cling to it will surely drown.

 

That train just ran out of track.

 

My mind drifts to Odessa, a romantic

name  to me. A sadness that that place,

with so  much history, has to once again

endure the torment of human folly. 

I would love, I imagine myself, in a tea

shop, looking at ships in the harbor, smell

of the sea, cries of the fish sellers, me

and a few old men that have survived,

smoking kief, drinking Turkish

coffee, at home in ancient hospitality.