FAKE POEM 4

Yesterday I thought that way until I went to bed my regulated waking thinking interrupted in my dream the shadow of a man walked through the very transparent window through which I viewed my world disrupted

what I had been pleased to call my chain of thought turned out to be not a hard discrete chain at all but a smooth continuous though not entirely seamless skein and thereafter a colourless stream

and thereafter again an interrupted stream broke in splashes on the pavement slipped away dwindling in a rush of colours

never to be redeemed again but never mind a new skin replaced the old in time and the same two feet stood again as always too squarely on the ground as always walking up the stairs and down again and up

Poem and photos by
Jamie Reid

Sculpture by
Greg Kawczynski

at Seymour Art Gallery
Deep Cove, BC