in my dreams
i customarily either perish in
1.5 x 1022 zeptoseconds or it’s a boring
dream in which I’m
baking muffins
‘falling from the roof’
‘land gently’
i would like to inquire about a scenario where one could
take a tumble from their own roof
if you fall
from your roof
You flatline
and you wake up
at Five and three quarters
to go pursue thy education
the illusion has crumbled
and you’re back
in
Creative writing
Pondering on this writing’s status as a poem
Lines 6-7 are from Wisława Szymborska’s “Pochwała Snów”
by Gabriel O.