the trip

Autumn

great brick glass arches
my toungue and hips peeling
these swirls of tripped-out lightning
titilate and frighten

and i feel
to be
in a strange daze

wasted just like the old days
anxious to curl up and crawl away
but then distracted by another face
leads me to another place

and i feel
to be
in a strange daze


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