The Last Word on the Matter


One day I told them of my hopes, or told me, loud and tall

A sky painted a hundred colors raining down my cheeks

As dolphins plunged unsparingly between the high-tide tresses.

Oh but I did so hope

To pipe them back their song with a voice dripping Vivaldi

Ringing harmonic diamonds in the piano man’s blue eyes.

But is it wrong to say

That yes I dreamed so sore

Of traveling the deep crevasses gorged within his palm

We’d cross on horseback every Tierra de Nunca Jamás

Compose them each an aria in Japanese or Dutch

Yes once I had this dream

That jittered with the wish

But is it wrong to think

That Paris could kaleidoscope around us like a Springtime

Shattering the Winter of our un-Louvred minds?

And dans la vie on se demande

Est-ce que it’s wrong to wonder

Do tell me please shut up

Oh but I did so wish

For a cottage bearing Autumn’s veil to blink open my eyelids

Awaken me to cinnamon dust; kids building lego fortresses

To post upon a blog

I’m sorry for my flaws

But is it wrong to dream?

I’ll bury then my hope

It’s wrong to dream so sore

Tortuga turning torque to torsion in my southern mind

Oh but you did so hope

Yes but I did so dream

But is it wrong to dream

I’ll bury then my hope

Along with wishful jitters


Excuse me for my flaws

I dreamed them up

Unconscious, loud and tall.


Image credits in order of appearance:


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