Dreams of the Rambling Mind

I.

Consciousness and logic swim through the endless void,

disconnected through disjointed synapses and chemical imbalances.

The record plays, but the song skips a few notes.

I want to be a rock singer,

but all I can compose are

cracked crescendos

of a tragic opera that stars a lunatic android with a hard drive that has fried circuits.

II.

Put a Letter in my mailbox and it’ll disappear for three days,

then I will find it and write to you in three hours.

Even here at UPS, time lapses too slowly or too fast.

The envelope doesn’t bend,

it creases slowly until it rips open.

Some of its content falls out, never to be seen again.

Some contents stay in the envelope for eternity, with some tearing of course.

Every now and then the delivery man knows not where the mail will go,

and in these moments the delivery man doesn’t start the car…

until the letters are marked with his tears.

III.

The pen writes brightly until the ink starts to fade.

The poet’s stanzas are well organized and the lines on point,

but the ink runs out and the hand shakes.

Inspirations and vision become barely remembered dreams.

Doors never close, rooms constantly change.

The poem becomes a never-ending run-on sentence.