Regular Poem: Daydream

24 Apr

It’s a ho-hum humdrum daydream–
no glamor or excitement
no love or enticement–
just an outfit,
the way it’s put together,
culled from pieces,
woven and unwoven again,
yielding itself to vagaries, whims, caprices.

But it’s not just the outfit,
it’s getting into the outfit,
the bit before the outfit,
the primping, yes,
but also the search
through drawers and dressers and closets and piles–
flipping through mental files–
muscle memory, sense memory, memory memory, false memory, wished-for memory–
a clumsy catalogue
of everything and more
and less.

And the reactions
and repercussions
and opportunities
and possibilities.

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