I wish I lived in Wayne’s World,
where Wayne and Garth are real.
I wish I had Cassandra’s curls,
and her *** appeal.
I wish I dated Jason Dean,
and coloured him impressed.
I wish I had the killer gene,
but never ever confess.
I wish I went to Ashfield Hospital,
and looked a little on edge.
Explored shutter island in the spittle,
and made the Marshall pledge.
I wish I lived with Yeats,
or in the lonely moated grange,
I wish I danced on table tops,
my body for money, fair exchange.
I wish reality didn’t exist,
or better yet just me,
all those opportunities would be missed,
and at peace I’d finally be.
A few of my favourite films/poems/poets incorporated into what started off as a uniform poem but soon disintegrated. (a metaphor for my life)