“Dreams Are the Royal Road to the Unconscious”
The King’s Highway to the Dare-Not-Know
—but I beg my rides and oh I know
these boring roads where hundreds and hundreds
of cars fade by in hundred-hundreds
of flashing windows too bright too fast
to see my face. I am steadfast
long hours o’ the morning, I am so sad.
An old-time trap, an ancient sad
horse and his farmer stop by the way,
they’ll take me one mile on my way
—out of my way—is this the Way?
I used to think I used to be happy,
but is it possible to be happy?
What is it like?—like Plato oh
we’ll copy it at large and oh
plan a city where all the distances
(where? where?) are walking distances.