INVENTING TOMORROW

Bedroom lights dimly glowing
ghostly reflections seen on the wall through my waning conscious,
television droning with the late evening news,
but I'm only listening
my brain's eyes
seeing only the imagined tomes of moments
sitting on an invisible shelf near the ceiling.

There is the one titled, "What I should have said."
It s a wonderful fairy tale
filled with courage, honesty and written in disappearing ink
so I don't have to read
all the words that I never uttered
during times when my backbone is missing

Then there is the one kept closed
containing the erotic drawings of women I've seen
and imagined undressed.

Finally, there is the one with the titled,
"Managing my dementia."
It is a pure work of fiction
that I rewrite every day.

They all sit on that shelf
mockingly muttering their contents
till I open the portal to my midnight Neverland of extremes
where I spend time
inventing tomorrow.