Eyes struggle, then start to fail
As I tread an oft-forgotten trail
While my dizzy thoughts retreat…

I see these things, beyond the veil
Grandad milks into a pail
Then walks back home to eat

I am a slowly crawling snail
Sliding sticky on a rail
Seeking a rotting treat

I’m an up-and-arching whale
Flukes up high, then smacking like a flail
Spreading stars as waves retreat

Next a startled, leaping quail
Leaking feathers from my tail
Then exploding like a skeet

Scared and slewing through the sleet
My car is skidding ’cross the street
Homeward bound from getting mail

Now head and hands enormous, and legs and feet petite
Our daylight tastes elastic, its sparkles oh-so-sweet
While Moon shines down upon us, frowning, pouting, pale

Colors spin and shout to greet
As sounds duck their heads, discrete
And a rock becomes a grail…

Grandad’s clock is loudly ticking, then chiming like a nail
And again grandad is walking, returning with his pail
My eyes flutter open, harsh real-world to meet.

Which world shall I walk in? Do I want daytime to prevail?
Am I here, loudly talking – or escaping through the veil?
As I wonder what I want: Which world is real – and which a cheat?