The Dream And The Truth Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The dream and the truth
I have told those who wanted to listen that once I swam
in the blue lake in Iceland and walked hand in hand
with a blond Huldra to the dramatic waterfalls asking
to appear in a movie; how unpolluted the air was
in a night of a thousand guitars.
When I deconstructed the truth, I discovered it was
a dream created to mask the more sordid reality.
Yes, I had been to Iceland long ago, it was raining
and cold, the night was unlit
I did swim in a warm pool in New Zealand once
met a woman older than me and walked hand in hand
to a place that had rooms for let, so many rooms
but only one roof and little privacy.
Bestriding her flexing my youthful muscles, I farted
frozen in embarrassment that didn't help when
people in the neighbouring room giggled; the woman
said: not to worry, it had happened to her, the thought
of this made that matter worse, I fled to the woods
hoping to join the Tasmanian tiger.
The truth is vital as the world is on the precipice
of a nuclear tragedy that can be avoided if common
sense prevails, and the war of the world is avoided.
If not, survivors will stride in an avenue where leaves
on trees are worthless green diamonds
Walk to the mountain where a steel door has melted and
find inside where the rich with jewelry and Sabre coats
had sought safety, but they were so very dead.
Walk into the kitchen, open a tin of Paquin duck in jelly
eat the last meal before the world is flung out of the galaxy
and the story of humanity will be lost forever.