Planet Caravan 

Optimist, optimist,

You’ll see only what you want to see;

Your eyes are a deformed sieve.

You fall asleep on rose beds and wake to the smell of sunlight; 

You feed pigeons and carry everyone’s grocery bags. 

You’re a happy man (you’re a madman),

I envy you (I pity you).

Pessimist, pessimist,

You shake the hands of clocks and call yourself a businessman;

You dream of old lovers blurred gray as tarnished cutlery.

At crack of dawn you run away your existence along the coastline and  

Stroke prickles of sand like a Persian cat. 

You’re a sad man (you’re a sane man)

I pity you (I admire you).

Like unseeing flies, you both walk along opposite ends of possibility  

And don’t realize that you will meet each other.

Meanwhile words wedged between the lines of age

Watch you waltz through your days. 

Optimist, optimist,

Do you feel entrapped within clocks?

Would you prefer to turn tattered roads into a milky way?

You protect yourself from thinking, a sickness of the eyes. 

Pessimist, pessimist,

Do you think deserts cannot kiss rain?

Would you prefer to throw crows onto sunrises?

You protect yourself from hoping, sustenance of lies. 

You both prefer seeming to being, 

Whose music is less kind. 

You’re cowards (you’re human)

I pity you (I understand you).

But be careful:

If you continue on like this, you will turn into one another. 

Realist looks on and says,

Born of love or death, flowers are flowers;

Born of rebirth or sorrow, rain is rain; 

All realities entangled to one another like yarn,

And this is so because it is so.