Illusion And Trance
We snake our way
Through the city side streets
Like adorable criminals;
We prowl as sleek as cats
To the dark bars
And dig underground jazz;
Our memories guide us
Like well-marked maps
To hidden basement retreats
Where everyone drifts
Into another existence,
Charting their souls’ evolution
To this moment of lurid experimentation.
Don’t breathe too long
The fetid air of normalcy,
Too many walk like living corpses
In this conformist society,
Everyday making down payments
On their burial plots,
But I refuse to allow this
To be my lot…
My spirit demands originality
And I’m seeking to understand
My immortality following vague traces
Glimpsed from illusion and trance
And near-death experiences.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Added by Poetry Lover
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