Feeling for the Last Real Feeling

Someone happens to refer

To the last real thing you’ll feel,

And you start digesting that.

As always with digestion,

This means taking things apart,

Breaking them down to their bits,

Separating what becomes

You from what you can use from

What is worthless waste to you,

What would poison you, if you

Don’t get rid of it and soon.

What, for instance, is the deal

Between a real thing you feel

And an unreal thing you feel?

And why would the last real thing

Felt precede the last felt thing?

There’s some fuel in the phrasing,

A touch of the ominous,

Drawn from the more usual

Phrasing, the last thing you feel,

But no one has ever felt,

Can never have felt, either

The last real or unreal thing.

The last felt thing is a myth,

Real or not, even the last

Felt thing just before falling

Asleep. Later, you recall

The last thing you can recall,

But you know that’s not likely

The last real thing before sleep.