By J.D. Doley

Liminal Dream Reality

Opening my wings and flying into a liminal reality,
deconstructing my whole self,
while entering into an infinite nothing,
a nothing I can build in my own terms,
a nothing that opens doors to my greatest resolutions,
giving me hope that tomorrow will be better than today,
for anything can be better than today.

Trusting my wings and my powers too much,
thinking of flying into the sun like a modern-day Icarus,
but changing my mind at the last minute,
because the sun is guarded by its creators,
who would not like me or anyone trespassing their property.

And a billion eyes avoid the sun,
for there are no minds in my generation*,
for they were destroyed since before they were born,
but I am not one to talk,
for I am one of my generation,
with paper wings,
flying into a liminal dream.

(*allusion to the first line of Allen Ginsberg’s poem, “Howl”)

The Madman’s Raving

The pounding of the heart
Bears the trauma of supposedly purer times
As they should have been (but they were not)

My mind is blank
Only creating an absurd plot late at night
And I rave, and I rave (endlessly)

The TV is loud
With a random soap opera I know not the name of
A break from the cases (5 last year, 4000 now)

It will be fine, you are fine
This will go away soon, things will go back to normal
Before you know it

You shall be able to go out with your face unveiled again in...
You shall be able to go after 9 pm and...
You shall be not afraid of death when...
You shall stop religiously sanitizing your hands being afraid of lethal germs that
could be on any surface after...
You shall fearlessly kiss your family and friends and dine in that fancy restaurant you
had been eyeing before this mess started or grab a beer or 5 shots of vodka in that pub
in which you were a regular until...
You shall...

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