Virtual Reality

 
I lie on a soft couch whilst
The hemet is adjusted to my head.
Purple spots float before my eyes
And the earphones crackle.
One hand is guided to a glove,
The other to a joy stick.

 

This is reality.

 
Bandits at nine o'clock!
My hands tremble on the controls
And cannon fire rips across my visor.
The Tie-fighter dives
Into the rugged canyons
Of the Death Star.

 

I fly.

 
Bird, quietly
Soaring on the high winds
That circle the Earth.
Below me green fields and white ice,
Yellow deserts and blue oceans,
Above me the clouds.

 

I am nothing.

 
Small, smaller, tiny.
I am a white defender of the red pulse
Of my own blood,
Riding the currents,
A universe in the vast darkness
Of a human body.

 

I am legion.

 
Napoleon and Josephine,
Adam and Eve,
Tom and Jerry.
Power over night and day
Is in my hand
And all things do my bidding.

 

This is virtual reality.

 
Alan Brown
Copyright © Alan Brown 1994