sometimes in the night
I like to play
with a flashlight
narrow the focus of the beam
to make it a thin stream
of astonishing brilliance
then I will hit my pillow
billowing up a piles
of near microscopic dust
that will twinkle
like distant stars
across the field of radiance
that shines
like an artificial sun
in the midnight milky way
of my lonely old room
sometimes I will pretend
that the flashlight
is a miniature rocket
set to lift off
from the launch pad
of my bed
and it will swish and sway
from one end to the other
until my arm tires
or I get bored
of these sci-fi fantasies
then I will lay back down
to drown in this ordinary world
forced to live out
my existence
on this gravitational prison that will forever be my home