Just as I have read the books that I have read
So too have I led the life that I have led.
Caught in the midst of a fixed temporal point
Where I rightly reckon, by the by, there is time enough
For reality to pack up its pride and exit stage left.
The inexhaustible well of imagination which holds me
Teleports and sustains me
Even after the office drone amplifies itself ten-fold
Through a hollow cylinder, intent on driving the weak insane
With all of its procedural knives sinking simultaneously
Into my skull. This is why it is easier to be a child,
Thriving inside your own synaptic universe of dense forest
Pathways, drowning me out into the fresh clearing of
Blushing light from your own rosy-fingered dawn.
FLAVIO HUITRON 