Morning s fancy

Hypnotize,
 mesmerize,
 magnetize,
Draw me close,
Drawn me in the sticky chocolate swamps of your pitch-black eyes.
Your fingers will go through the stuffy jungle of my hair,
and despair, which has been sucking on our tattered souls for so long,
will crawl away, pushed by the huge wave of sweetness
filling our mouths & throats & bellies
with the most delicate sorts of candies & jams & jellies.
And, and, and as you take my hand with both of yours –
an electrical shock goes through my toes
 and I scream…
Huh, ‘What a beautiful dream,’ –
 I say to myself
as I scramble from my sofa-bed to shut up the alarm clock,
realize the time (Why couldn’t I have slept a few secs longer? –
Just to see it to the end!),
pull on the socks – I wear them to keep my feet from sweating –
put on the slippers and slip into the dressing gown,
let in the sun (Oh, wow, it’s not that bad!)
and head to the bathroom door.
I’ve been living between the 4th and the 5th floor
of this brick-n-concrete yellow Stalin’s building for seven years or so.
But, all the same, at the beginning of each single day
I’m brought from far away by some malicious force
from heaven down to earth:
to the continuous creaking of my joints,
to making/answering the calls,
to beggars, Metro stations, shops,
to making/breaking promises,
to stupid cartoons, drugs, commercials, smoking cars,
to ‘How’re you’s’ and ‘Where’re you’s’
and Bush’s-arse’s-so-important news,
and to cold feet and frozen hands –
they call it neurocirculatory dystonia –
one of the most widespread illnesses of these days…
And then I wonder:
why
shouldn’t I be eking out the light of night
and fancying the world of fancies
and living up to no one’s expectations
but believing in spells-n-charms-n-incantations
and that all people have love-thirsty souls?
Well,
Hell knows!
(6.04.04)