top of page
Writer's picturePaul D. Wilke

The Daydream Assassins



Look all around,

in the crowded parks,

on the busy streets,

in the packed trains,

on the narrow balconies,

of cut and paste

tenement blocks.


Search far and wide

for the one looking up

at nothing,

doing nothing,

not one goddamn thing

but lying on the grass

or sitting on a park bench

or looking out a window

like an idle idiot

a lazy loafer

looking up at

NOTHING

that we

can see,


doing

NOTHING

that we

can see,


maybe staring

at the clouds

in the sky

or

the stars

in the heavens


or what the fuck?


There's nothing extraordinary

out of the ordinary

IT'S ALL

quite ordinary

whatever's up there

that we cannot see.


We are sure of it.


So why does he do it?


What good does it do?


What money does it make?


Do something, for Christ's sake!


Go someplace!

Look forward

or backward

or down

or at a screen

or into a mirror

or inside the medicine cabinet

if that's what you need.


Just DO something!


Move out with a purpose,

any purpose will do

like the rest of us.


But looking up?


And at

NOTHING

in particular?


NO.


THIS.


WILL.


NOT.


DO!


So come now

my friends!


Grab his attention

and drag him back

DOWN

to where he belongs


DOWN

with the rest of us


and do it now

FOR HIS OWN GOOD

before anyone else

wakes up.




 


bottom of page