by Mark

I blur time lines
With dream lines
Where what I say
could be what was
said,  done, or never been.
A life almost meant
For Tralfamadore with
Panoramic perceptions.
Yet, mine’s a yawn of
time tied to sleep
walking. Questioning
if what done was real
or just the part
where wine rises over
the eye gloss of early
mornings. Play puppets
stage their performances
with unique voices
simultaneously as my
voice stumbles through
The day. Which frame
of taught is the segment
And which the line?

-Mark J