Not a Shakespearean Sonnet
Performance poet put sounds in mouths
to spit across the stage in firey streams,
living dreams, from ancient times,
making shadow shapes on shifting scenery.
Rub his words together to make heady smoke
that smells like alchemy of the mind,
breathe in the scent of strange, that colours life
with the magic of imagining.
Life is story, dreary a facade
and sleep is just a slip away,
so stoke the past into the present,
decipher burning wonders, before
tiny writing on tissue paper dissolves
into air, into nothingness