Imagination Anonymous

A storefront group-confessional

stands in the limbo state of ridding the conscience

of repressive reality.

So many chairs in the circle.

So little need for donuts and coffee.

It’s always a long night

as various imaginations clear their heads

of bad premises, faulty structured beginnings-

middles-ends, along with clumsy paragraphs,

misspelled impatience, synonyms and metaphors needing order,

and finally, something worth talking about, writing about,

reading about or maybe dancing or performing…about.

Such is the safe house for those who, by necessity,

maintain their sanity by escaping the rejection

of their estranged family and once-friends,

needing to spend their evenings tuning their earthbound

minds to a cosmos only they can create,

perhaps a shared reward only they can make,

give, and at maybe receive an appreciative nod.

Such are those who admit their addiction to imagination,

the habit of dreaming in the awakened state,

wary of succumbing to a deep sleep before…