Stall this moment
until luck brings me to sleep,
that shimmering silver essence
he spys it Looking Out and back In again.
Fruiting this companionship,
the pulsing groove of the pathway,
the yellows———————-the blues—————————–the reds
and the intensity of the rest;
the best
is next
to enter and take root.

There’s the Dosed Decency,
yep, right back here, and how cute as she
Raises the temperature of my spinal fluid;
an emotional pleasure
from this rainbow measure
removes the ten-thousand pieces
and flies them Distant to be
Lost out deep,
with the Limestone Comets.

It’s a residue from the experience
gashing realities to the 
vulnerable throat.
peaceful peripheral Visions
of the
dagger-done stomache fissions
as I wander wearing this moth-eaten coat.
Too Tired
to complain, to feel, to think,
& who’s to believe our doG can grieve?
He’s probably just playing the trifles
of the rhythmic Hand.
Doing it to stifle
the stumbling
of my mumbling
as my Fingers graze
with absolute treachery,
the Far-out gnarled coral branches
of flavors ————- force-fed epiphanies
that fill the Empty bottle
we all call Home.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

It's generally a great time and experience, but there's always a dark side.
If you're having a bad time~Just turn that trip into a trip~ Get your soul out the door!

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