reality in poetry

Reality is the butcher that quarters
and seals in wax-paper packages
our very dreams before us.
Hold him off for as long as you can.

Reality will slaughter them into disjointed chunks
easy to ship, burn up and consume
but never able to sit up
and moo for us again.

Reality will hold the bleeding remains of your dreams before you
tightly wrapped up in smart-looking twine
and tell you that this is still your dream
just without all those annoying nerves and bones
just without that annoying tendency to breathe and grow
just without that bad habit of being alive.

Reality will hand you the trimmings
of your dead dreams’ corpses
and tell you that you still have your dreams
you have them right there in those bags
they just happen to be dead
now stuff your stomach with what is let of them
before they start to rot into nothing.
Hold him off for as long as you can.

Reality will probably get to them eventually.
Reality will probably hack up your dreams with a cleaver
shove a few bits into an oozing stained envelope
and smile at you
and charge you for the honour.
You probably can’t beat it forever.

BUT HOLD HIM OFF
HOLD HIM OFF
HOLD HIM OFF FOR AS LONG AS YOU CAN
Maybe you can get to die trying to keep your dreams alive
maybe you can make that butcher have to kill you together
so that you never have to live without them
so you and your dreams can leave this world together like lovers
that’s probably the best way that it all can go down
but even that’s only if you’re really really lucky.

But hold that butcher off as long as you can
and if reality ever wins
when reality wins and hands you your dreams dead in the bag
in the very least
in the very very least
stiff the bastard on the check.

You did not ask for your dreams to be killed
you do not owe that murderer
anything.