Subconcious schlock

So I guess I've been dreaming a lot lately. I don't remember any of the dreams to tell you. But, I've woken up two days this week with something running through my head.

Exhibit A:


Which I (of course) had to sing pedaling to work that day, and hum under my breath for the next 36 hours.

Exhibit B:
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Robert Frost
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.

And this? This is inextricably tied in my head to Ponyboy, and the young Matt Dillon and Emilio Estevez, and all the budding ESL students I ever taught "The Outsiders".... What a crowd to wake up to! Sheesh.

Conclusion?
My word, is my head really that full of schlock?