Let 0 = 1

April 2008
000/444/888

Last night, I closed my eyes before bed 
And imagined life in eras now long past. 
I saw the Shakespearean actor shuffle down an alleyway 
While, on the other side of the globe, 
Scrappy, thin men carved out a fortified village 
In what would one day be the United States. 

I drifted in the thunder and rolling clouds 
On a warm jet stream high above. 
While civilizations below conformed to 
The advancements of the ages in which they lived. 

I imagined the inevitable pull of westward expansion, 
And I saw great ships establish trade routes to usher in 
A new prosperity. 
I spent time in houses. 

Sometimes, I sat in the rooms at night 
And watched the people who slept. 
They could never guess that I was with them, 
But sometimes, they would look nervously 
Around and stare with alert eyes 
Into the darkness where I sat watching. 

They could not see me, 
But they could feel me, 
Just as I could feel them when 
I closed my eyes and imagined 
Every frame of life that contributed 
In some way to my current place in the universe. 

I am here and there even now.
Let 0 = 1

I've never stayed in any of the houses for an extended time 
Because my presence has a definitive effect on those I observe. 
At first, the people I visit mistake me for their own wild imagination, 
But then I am viewed as a ghost of some kind, often demonic. 
Invariably, my presence is rebuked and resented, 
And I have no choice but to leave. 

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