Nothing exists outside of me
For all the world’s my fantasy —
Thus, “reality” is but a lark
In which I’ve set my fancy free
To fill this void & endless dark
With worlds that have no words for cark,
Or care, or woe, or misery.
And yet, at times, these dreams turn sour,
Commuting with nightmarish power

To stain themselves most bloodily . . .
Which sets this stalwart soul to cower —
Though what else could these visions be
But nightmares of “reality”
Made of mere thought, once it’s turned dour?
For it can’t be that such exits(?!):
Hate-mongers, gangs, the clenching fists(?). . .
Trench-war, H-bombs, & poverty(?) . . .
Or religious fanatics, and old-racists(!?);
How else could such things come
to be Except in twisted fantasy,
Which lasts but while this mind exists?

About Steven M. Sloan

Prof. Steven M. Sloan is a scholar, teacher, and poet who has been widely anthologized, as well as widely published in poetry magazines, journals, and newspapers. He is a graduate of the University Of Wisconsin – Whitewater (where he was a member of the Editorial Board for its poetry publication: The Muse), and is also a graduate of the University Of Wisconsin – Madison. he has done many different jobs including college prof., factory worker, swimming instructor & lifeguard, as well as working in cancer research. He is the author of Multiple books or pamphlets of poetry & remains committed to the art. The editor of Columbia Publications has said of him that he is, “a talented poet” whose work, “touches upon many topics and emotions,” and that, “his imagery is characteristically spectacular, as well as thought evoking (Lana M. Wegeng, Editor).” Dana Minor, Editor of the poetry journal: Sublime Odyssey, has said that, “Sloan has a definite capacity for ringing phrases.” Ester Cameron, Editor of The Deronda Review, & The Neovictorian, has said that at their best his lyrics, “have almost a 17th century quality, like Lovelace, Herrick, or Suckling.” He currently lives in Kenosha, Wisconsin.

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