I live authentically after midnight. Free
the locs of my hair. Disrobe
from this disingenous uniform; the symbols
of a surrealist reality that make dreaming possible.
I enjoy the nightlife provided by my couch,
an errant scrap of paper, an upright pencil.
The I who I am when I'm allowed to be real:
doesn't want power
doesn't want authority
doesn't want to wake-up one day and find my mask melded on.
Using Houdini methodology, I slip my bonds
dislocate my smile
to a time more suitable; a place less demanding.
A disappearing act, where I'm allowed to be more
me.
