In This Dream Poem by Ian Keenan

Had this dream not caught me up
I would have been so different,
my hair longer,
my jeans ragged at the ends,
and I would have smelt
of marijuana and slightly stale.

My buttons would have been
red and green,
my satchel yellow,
and my women gypsy-like
with unshaven arm-pits
and leather-thonged bracelets.

But now in this dream
I sit here in bed
besides a cold cup of tea,
earphones to stop the music's noise
disturbing the dust on my black shoes,

and put my earplugs in
sliding beneath my duvet
quietly,
my blue suit and brown chinos
waiting to greet me in the morning.