A lad (or is he a ‘bloke?’) hopes life can reach near Utopia. (Version #2 of -‘Dreaming on’ one ‘Starry Night’ Waiting for that ‘New York Minute’ when ‘Everything Can Change b/c ‘It’s Better Than Drinking Alone’- (Bernards, NJ, b/t Wed. Sept 16th & 18th, 2020)

Bernards, NJ; between Wednesday, September 16th  & 18th, 2020:

A lad (or is he a “bloke?”) hopes life can reach a near Utopia. (Version #2 of ‘Dreaming On’ [1]One ‘Starry Night’ Waiting for that ‘New York Minute’ When ‘Everything Can Change’ b/c ‘It’s Better Than Drinking Alone’

*Dedicated to Dr. Martha Witt, Aime Sanchez, Meagan Morillo, Nathaniel McIntyre, Tiona Harris, Imani Hardaway, William Garcia, Brianna Colmenares, & my wife Ashley O’Connor. *

“Dear creator/creators//arbitrator//arbitrators of reality,

even if I’m naïve to believe in you or y’all, & thus my guess

that you exist– more physically speaking– is a fallacy… (though I literally “hope

to the heavens” that you exist in a more physical state than merely qua

figment of my imagination,” said a rather hopeful lad

(or was he a bloke?)

(& btw, whether this was merely wishful self-talk or indeed we can really

chalk it up to a prayer that some mystical, creative force was listening to,

who knows? I don’t.) …oh, before I proceed, so, Someone

(this Someone is a “real personage”—if you know what I mean– who has

helped me, on occasion, bridge a bit more succinctly from one thought to

another) Someone asked me about my… “whacky” diction (Someone’s

words, not mine) & I replied that I like to put out[1]

beyond my own time & place

for a shot of those spiritual & dreamy surges of near


mixed with some imagination. Now, about this bloke, who one idyllic, late

August night, as the light of the stars—both stars as such & Waxing Gibbous

moon they illuminated—mixed with a pleasantly lively wind, (only a pinch

humid) which evoked within him a soul so full of hope that the

universe/multiverse could stretch astonishingly close to near Utopia…

everyone who wanted to be rich could be, everyone who wanted to live

forever could…not

that he wanted heaven on Earth, he still wanted a dash of better or worse,

(for did that not give things their worth?) just not to such an extent that for

some people life is like a curse that brutally hurts such that they scream

while others, at least it seems,

are “living the dream.” Couldn’t we please enjoy life with (for example)

something like




couldn’t we? couldn’t we,



[1]“4. transitive. Thesaurus » †a.  (a) To express in speech or writing, to utter;  (b) to vent or give expression to (an emotion) (rare). Obsolete.” ; Oxford English Dictionary


1 One ‘Starry Night’ Waiting for that ‘New York Minute’ When ‘Everything Can Change’ b/c ‘It’s Better Than Drinking Alone’

Author: Poetry by Sean O'Connor

Hi, I'm Sean. I’m a poet. My favorite poet, my literary role model, is Bob Dylan. Other poets I love include John Lennon, Lord Byron, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Claude McKay, and A.E. Stallings. Sometimes I like to write with a touch of the prosaic in my verses and to that end, the prose writers who most inspire me include Thomas Mann, Phillip Lopate (my favorite essayist), David Foster Wallace, Milan Kundera, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Robert Musil, Susan Sontag, Leslie Jamison, Michel de Montaigne, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, My themes tend towards the philosophical and psychological, exploring the idea of what it might mean and be like to live an ever improving life. I’m currently pursuing my MFA in Creative & Professional Writing at William Paterson University, where I also received my BA in Liberal Studies (with concentrations in Political Science & History). I also work as a writing tutor for Raritan Valley Community College. Aside from my writing, I’m vehemently political, fascinated with human sexuality, open about my polyamory and…I love dogs. My wife and I adopted a Siberian mix from St. Hubert’s Animal Welfare Center in October of 2019.

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