Kid You

You.

You know this place.

You know this place from once inside a dream:
A dream about a life before this life,
When just a Coke machine meant luxury.
In flipping dials, in-room heat and air,
In eyes wide open, mid-chlorine and all;
In dripping in a towel beside a pool.
In comic heroes viewed from in a store
Your parents bought the towel in, and a box
Of candy-coated popcorn with a toy
So cheap and flimsy, it would die that hour.
The world before events became the world
And hours spent in ways so un-ideal
Defined the self you show out to the crowd
Who isn’t here — who wasn’t ever here —

But you know this place, you know you do.

Yes, you.

7 thoughts on “Kid You

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