The simplemindedness was eerie

yet seemed so distant,

to what in actuality was a reality to me

in this drab and desperate arena of calm in which is pursued.

I float apart with erogenous dreams

of pretty and pink,

of sin and youth,

and awake unsatisfied as ever.

For what is at hand and for me to stand

in the becoming as truth would have me truly unfulfilled.

In better avenues I remember when,

with copper canyons pleated in gold

and droves of adventure about to unfold,

I set forth into the village.

The aura of sun casting a cerebral calm

as seemed the case within my entire vicinity.

New York Dreams

by Hennessy Hanford