Words and Worlds
A world is simply a variation on another world.
All you have to do to create a world is to tell its story.
In the beginning there was the word.
A word in no language.
A word from which all other words came,
An idea from which all other ideas emerged
And that word was the creation
By it all things were created, at least on paper
Don`t ask me how things are created in practice
Although they say that practice makes perfect,
One look at the world should convince us otherwise
For years I lived in the world of words.
Creating things with words
But then one day someone told me
that I`d have to face the real world
For too long I`d looked out
on the world from an ivory tower,
trying to understand things
by the to and fro of words
And so I went to another world,
That world being New York
You could say
that living in New York
is living in the real world,
That, or living in
a very expensive dream
But maybe New York is a dream,
and Montreal`s a dream
Things are not as they seem
and the images we`ve seen
we try to understand with words
And it may seem absurd,
Or we may think we understand,
Wielding the right ideology
Cathedrals of ideas,
Built with words
So where`s the real world anyway,
in this universe, amidst the many
worlds like layers of the onion?
Try to peel them off
and it will end in tears
But anything can seem plausible
when at last you`ve found
the right words to represent them
from a copy of reality
And where is the original?
Can we trace it back
to the word there was
In the beginning?
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