The Imaginary Man (Of Your Dreams)

Here in my cabin
luxury doesn’t have a lap
she’s dancing in beige velour
while cracking the eggs for breakfast

Here are my cabin
and luxury taking laps around it
as I am the cracked egg in beige
and crushed like dumb, suffering velvet

In an airplane cabin
trying to sleep in no luxury across three seats
This plane will never crash or land
It’s powered by surreal velour vapor

Cabin here: Whisky Tango Foxtrot
Luxury Minuet Eggs Benedict Arnold
Lapband Quickstep Scrambled Treason
Velour Armchair Waltz, over:

Roger that, Cabin

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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