Altered States

by John Stocks

You see what you choose to see
The vicissitudes
The daily dalliances
The rituals that pass a day
Gently to oblivion.

We know fragile silences
The trance-like stupor
Of the focused zone.

In coffee bars we wear away the hours
With sighs and sips of books.

Observe light oozing through the door
As time stands guardsman-still
Poised to orchestrate our dreams
And slip words deftly into consciousness.

In pubs we plunder silence
And draw attention to our absence
From the brooding workday city

We drift
We watch
We wonder

A million half-stifled screams
And nothing is quite as it seems.

And this is who I am
This my destiny; my fate
To seek the mystery,
To live in altered states.