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Unreality

By Wil C. Fry, 1990.02.28

(Copyright © 1990 by Wil C. Fry. All rights reserved.)

Home > Poetry Index > 1990 > Unreality

“vague perceptions”; “twisted imaginings”; other names for reality
We call it real, but who really knows what’s happening
Sanity borders craziness; wiseness borders insanity;
My gerbil’s my psychiatrist — he really knows how to help me
The mists of life surround us; convince us they are the most real
How do we know what we feel is really what we feel?
Things that are visible — we believe in, and also more
Sometimes we foolishly insist that the ground is under the floor
How do you know? Have you ever looked?
Don’t even believe what you read in books.
You’ve been lied to, the Earth is flat
Made for giants — a big “Welcome” mat;
They say airplanes fly because the wings do tricks
I say they’re foolin’, you might as well flap some sticks
Nothing is real; Nothing is not; we’ve taken for granted too much
Like we used to be monkeys or some other ignorance or such



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