For Philip k dick
Shreds of cyan rock on optic nerves, and
Particles of sleep acted in my head.
Here was a new planet. A new Eden.
Crust hurled across crust. Hillocks grew wings.
I woke.
Cedar strips dripped in jam. Marshals.
Summer went walking on a high tightrope:
Autumn rose in the deadening daylight.
The brows of plants sank into marzipan.
I slept.
The sheen of everything jumped high.
Animal kingdoms were good team players.
Rumbles inside water were my friends, and
Bond vibrations shook the ground in a dance.
I woke.
Chords of air cleansed themselves by heart.
Insects bit no more and days unbolted.
Teams of people saw opposing viewpoints.
Hush rode along all the city turrets.
I slept.
A new gravel gathered at the roadsides.
Was this real or just an illusion?
Once I was numb. Disappointed and sad.
Refreshed by horizontal glints, I sowed.
Stephen Paul Wren
Stephen Paul Wren is a poet and chemist and has six books of poems published. His sequence about running was published by Ice Floe Press. He leads the fast growing poetry group called Molecules Unlimited.