i want to be carried, heavily sedated 
into a waiting aircraft.
i want to collapse from nervous exhaustion. 
i want to bow my head like Samson
and bring down with me 
the top ten advertising agencies.
i want to see the little bosses 
vanish like harmless fairies.
i want the pantomime to be over,
the circus empty.
i want what is real to establish itself, my children to prevail.
to live happily ever after
in this world that worships the preposterous.
it is better to be a scribe
than hacking in the salt mines,
heaving the building blocks.
everybody wants to be a scribe.
but i want out. i want non-existence,
a passive dream, a future for my children.

gavin ewart 'dream of a slave'