"your dreams, when you suppose the thing that would be stupid to suppose, when you stop trying to reconcile the irreconcilable and speak the terrible, fatal truth"
And this is one of those days one predicts
Should have begun as they did not begin,
Should have gone begging, ended up cursing,
No cure for the common heat of living,
No reason for the irritable lie
That there could have been a world in which I,
Far from being a pronominal game,
Aired an uninhabited local name.
This is one of those days, esposito,
Raised outside the dreamy gates. I should know.