“Im starting to feel weeeird...”
-Frank, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
I, having gazed into abyss, and dabbling deep
there, among saplings, I realize that I too (Yo, see, he's
SO OUT OF IT)
have been gazed into,
but with hero's eyes, sperlative,
that secreted in stealth,
peering into the kiddie pool depths
of me and striking oil
under black soil–
(TEEHEE) (YOOOO)
You're gonna hafta back up outta my bubble, bro,
listen, lookatcha breath I can see it hovering
like bacon, a-sizzle and waaaaavy bro.
Waaaaaavy.
Terracotta waltzes,
shimmers like gulf surf.
Flame fingers grip at logs;
sparks and I hand-dance.
Burning eddies whip stars,
snag their entrails, drape
remains from the zenith.
“You are a child now, scared of the creatures that lurk
in the dark and open spaces inhabiting you.
Rightly so: when you scream, they feed, writhing
like maggots on your dismembered psyche, rotting.
Refuse to be freaked, and build a cage for the freak show:
twine pipe-cleaner for bars, lay Pooh's honey as cement.
When they grasp at you through gaps, feed them peeps
to gum their teeth. Watch them scrap, here, from safety.”
The fodder for monsters
flurries down on us
from darkness. Disorder
severs thresholds, bor-
ders, births vitality
of reality
and conscious mind's root: fear.
“We remembered things we didn't remember,
that we couldn't have, fictions from within oblivion
forged of molten air and a tab, just a dab of lysergic acid.
As it faded we tried to document the adventure”
