Mundane moments of radial silence
Taking elevators to mountain tops.
Sailing ships in a barber shop.
“Sir, Sir! How would you like this cut.”
Public forays in wondrous venues.
A present desertion via
Lewd encounters without disgrace.
Riding a bus to outer space.
“Damn, I rode right passed my stop!”
Enticing opiates these quiet escapes.
Just a fanciful affliction or
a delusional addiction.
With imagined conquest absolute
and your resistance so dilute.
“Hey, snap out of it. Are you alright?”
Casual sorties within without
nurturing engrossment or
a consuming reliance
are accepted even favored only
for visits, not to live there.
“Hey stupid. Wake up. I’m talking to you!”