The Dreams Are A Stranger

I dreamt I was bent,
In the middle - so broken,
I couldn't see what was left.

In the window, a crest,
Of words now unspoken,
History's put to the test.

Our mind, our matter, Our money don't mean:
That you can see through me, and all in between.
Like summer and spring, with fall in between.
And winter and all that comes next.

It sits like a splinter,
it vexes me, vexes me,
The sphincter has me perplexed.

Is all this a joke?
Grand hoax - don't jest with me,
I don't understand your gest.

I sit like a letter in rows of our words,
in prose that I wrote,
Verbose like our world,

I see all the angles, they smile.
I see all the Angles, they smile.
I think I'm in danger, I' think I'll be tame.
I think and I say: I say I proclaim!

Speak my mind and it matters, the matter of mind.
Mind matters not money,
But money is blind.

It keeps shoving on me, like bundles of laundry,
It stays in my face - sensation!
And taste.

Keeps going and going, no matter how slow,
I roll it, I roll on, how far can I go?
How much can I take!!

My dreams are a stranger today,
Because today I am awake.