# 100. the real thing, 2009

[domenika]

yes, I know that you think

I am wrong

but

I know what is right for me


and what

is not.

may I tell you my

dream?

I am surrounded by

thick cement walls,

I am dressed in a red

robe

and I am sitting at an

organ.

there is

not a

sound.

I begin to play the


organ.

the hiss of the notes

is sharp and soft

at the same

time.

it is a slightly bitter

music

but among the dark notes

there are flashes of light and

laughter.

as I play,

the incomprehensible mystery


of the past

and of the present

becomes

comprehensible.

and best of all,

as I play,

nobody hears the music

but me.

the music is only for

me.

that is my

dream. (c) Bukowski