Scene Dream

Twentysomething scene dream,
living love gone sickness of this
bitter broken montage,
traversing lone and ragged road
lined with scraps of plastic promises,
with vintage smile and retro eyes,
hand on heart (or thereabouts)
ten foot high director's chair,
'Rip a little, tear a little'
'Cut and paste a little'
'See...now isn't that better?'
Numb brain nothingness to
chirp of summer birds in
autumn leaves, shout
'CUT' remove props,
next scene, and
indignant huff of prosthetic feathers,
'But where's my motivation?'
And faux bohemian hipsters
flail, breathless, on the ground,
'Quick get these boys some
neon lights, and an infusion of
happy times'
and lipstick girls bent back
over bars of instant dreams,
dream of what they'll be,
when they grow up, turn thirteen,
and sudden mirror check of lucid realisation
'But what have I become?'
Extreme mental anguish soon subsides-
settle down with easy tomorrow fix,
brand new haircut and season scarf,
student discount on sudden change of destiny-
and the smile you've been waiting for,
is lost in endless rows of teeth,
and faces disconnected from backstage operation
(but then you weren’t really looking anyway)
Unconscious washed out coma dream,
swimming in an artifical sea,
catch a reflection in the morning fire
of purple sky falling
ominously inwards,
'What do you mean he's flatlining? Quick
we're losing him!'
And glow stick syringe of liquid life
support,
administered through the eyeballs,
and sudden jerk up into magic eye of colour,
explodes like spiders all around,
metallic rasp of soothing voices,
Panic 'But where am I? Who am I? What will I be?'
Gleaming needle point piercing scream,
and then fading...
slowly...
into oblivion.