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I could dream for days.


I could eat dreams for

every meal and bang my utensils

on the table for more.


I could engage

my dreams in clever philosophical

debates and write dissertations on not.


I could lay about and brush my fingers

through my dreams’ dreamy hair,

down along those

dreamy legs,

stare until my eyes don’t know

their former binary life:




I could with each particle become them,

spend this life and the next in nothing,


Brian McGackin

‪Poet Brian McGackin is the author of BROETRY and DEATH IN THE RICK. He lives in Los Angeles and drinks a lot of Guinness.‬

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