The Next Poet’s Exhilarating Dream

I should be back-alley midnight dead Having seen the last sunset’s vanishing light Replaced with a gorgeously blood-dripping eternal night Instead of counting lingering regrets With lonely and dimming eyes still squinting into the past. I only wanted to live a limited amount of days And I’ve pointlessly over-extended my stay… Had I been a teenage genius Along the lines of Arthur Rimbaud, I wouldn’t hesitate to go, One should create art And then flee Like a wild and ruthless bandit Into the next poet’s exhilarating dream!