Metopia

I can’t sleep
but I’m dreaming.
I’ve lost my faith
but I’m make-believing.

In a perfect world
I’d be able to karaoke
at lunchtime.

Children’s laughter
would top the pop charts
as the greatest hit
of all time.

Every woman would know my name,
how I take my coffee
and when to leave me alone.

Certain moments
would stand still
like perfectly rendered
comic strip panels.

God would be
a business card
stuffed in my wallet.

The bridges I’ve burnt
would rebuild themselves
thoroughly and thankfully
without my help.

I wouldn’t be wealthy
but I’d always have
just enough.

Adults would sprawl themselves
onto poorly mowed lawns
and pretend their action figures
were in the jungle.

Adults would own action figures
because the term man-child
would be redundant.

The backs of my eyelids
would broadcast a loop
of the best day
of my life.

Every politician
would start their speeches
with a really good joke.

In a perfect world
the apocalypse
would always be
tomorrow,

and happy endings
would start that way,
too.