it’s all a dream,
none of it is real,
just a mental stream,

“a dream within a dream”

as Wordsworth put it,
bitter coffee mixed with ice cream…

and here we are in physical form,
monkeys on a pole,
dressed in clothes,
driving cars,
imagining life elsewhere,
making living movies
reveling in music,
killing and dying for ideas,

unaware of anything but joy and pain
crying laughter in the rain,
going against the grain,
with a brain dead set on dissecting all other brains…

monkeys,
living a life of complete mystery
of our origins and why we exist,
monkeys living love and daily lives in
angst and complete wonder.

monkeys,
caged in minds….