From crystal clear 

to out-of-focus 

my vision is 

mostly hocus-pocus 

from my dream 

of spotting my 

perfect Pocahontas 

in the New York 

metropolis 

to my over abundance 

of inner reflection 

sparkling in my iris 

like guilty-pleasure 

deflection 

I am just overly 

desirous 

like a pre-histrionic 

Tyrannosaurus 

crushing 

every beautiful thing 

in this enchanted forest 

a long-in-the-tooth 

literary sorcerer’s apprentice 

who learned how 

to begin but not 

how to end 

this overflowing 

life and death 

sentence