Dreams on Sale
There’s someone new in the market selling dreams.
He sells in pieces, scraps and shreds.
It’s a piece of bread from the Last Supper
from where one takes a morsel to shake the reality
but without any promise for salvation.
He sells dreams inflated with promises
like political manifesto before the election.
One can lick it before buying, one can prick
it before buying, one can pinch it before buying.
Once sold, one cannot hold it anymore.
Dreams melt down between fingers of the bourgeoisie
or get eaten by the paupers in starvation.
Dreams are cotton candy
gone before one starts eating!
26 November 2019