If I’m to be between
The world in my head.
And the world as we collectively see it.
So be it.
I’ve got a barefoot on the one foot,
And I’ve a misfit tube sock too tight on the two foot
What’s mass-produced is too loose, or tight
My mommy was only an assembly line for two.
To me that’s just right.
Princesses, popes, petty prim coats, and the past…
Cut & pasting palaces round people, some with moats & crocodiles,
Given enough time and glue, make-believe just never lasts…
People put their hopes in odd places
We’re so much more then we Play-Doh ourselves to be.
Da Vinci might of got close though,
I’m on the fifth shelf.
Too short to reach myself.
I know with a camera zoom out to fit the size of existence,
We may just be ten tin men setup in a row
Just waiting for a finger to let us go
I am the finger of my perception.
In my lucid dream’s I’ve been granted god’s hand
Levitation, creation, the desires of anyman
I’ve had a thousand tan brunets,
My next challenge–a clone of myself
Though facsimiles have been made, sentience alludes me
Some part of me resists granting total control
In due time, I’ll summon this world of mine.