by Steve Smart

I am a reality whore

I don’t need money

Don’t you know that artists

Eat air, breathe words

The slash of paint on canvas

The lull of a guitar the screech of a trumpet?

Invoke the name —- —– to

Locate other reality whores in your vicinity

I’ll sell myself any day of the week

For some small truth

Truth in advertising?

Truth in fiction

Truth in the days you can’t tell

If you’re dreaming or you’re

Actually waiting for a tram

The line becomes blurred

It’s why we crave the visceral

The nights too close to madness

The unavoidable slap of next mornings

Is a small price to pay to know you’re alive!

We do not come in peace

We come with lists of demands

That can never be met

We’ll find the hole in the sand

You’ve buried your head in

Wrench it out crying

‘Look! It’s all around don’t deny it

Don’t deny this one small thing we have

The knowledge that we exist

That some things are solid

Can be both touched and tasted’

We will fight for this knowledge

To keep it safe from those

Who would take it from us

Take hallucinogens to prove that reality

Not only exists but has many layers

We will explore the possibilities

As far as they stretch

Want you to understand

And may lose sleep if you don’t

In reality we are no more or less

Significant than any other speck of stardust

The universe might swallow us whole

without the slightest shudder

we are not so important

still we have been given the gift of reason

the ability to search for truth and beauty

created angels because we understood

that we are not perfect

‘Each to their own’ the prophet said

Each to the world they see around them

We simply ask that you accept

There is much more than what you’ve seen

You said the Sun turned around the Earth

and you were wrong we did not drop off the edge

there was no edge to find, we continue to learn