|
Not Ranked
:
+0 / -0
0 score
RIGHT BEFORE THE MUSHROOM SPROUTS IT SCREAMS, then they dream
Can you feel the Brains churning inside every skull? Thirsty for divinity, and RAIN- I feel this INTENSE collective need for the mushroom in my little redneck community, beyond language there is light. VIBRATING. Groaning like a slab of cosmos caught in a thousand vortexes and cohesive. Without rainbows, everyone's pinwheels fall off. Brains so fed up they're chewing themselves OUT, spewing out of ears, leaking out of the MOUTH or trickling down the spinal antenna ALIGNS. Neuroelectricity. Wet fingers. I feel the soft moan of planetary resonance spin about my dome. The wet eyes of life upon us. This is the grand unified finale. Celebrations spurr, parked cars around the lonely trees who've had to sit and listen to the news through a tiny wooden door in the back of someones labrynth. Tis I who was born years after the storm. Tis I who was caught licking death up from an inverted floor, when in 'reality' I was just walking through a house. My marijuana fantasy mind where I'm a physicless elf. Temporarily cellular and in love with blown glass, the universe erupts from another triangular volcanic mandala somewhere in the palm of some Bodhisattva's hand. Crystalline precision. 12 packs of Natural Ice, obliterated. All everyone gambling with the sharks.
and yet, unconsciously . .
there is a primal howl
emiting from your brainstem.
I can feel it, Bradenton,
Under the surface
of the water
in the sky
|