Blaze the trail, but remain incognito,
The Doctors told me from photocopied
Scripts. Do you find yourself staring
Long and having grandiose thoughts
During sunsets? To which I replied,
I believe the hash was laced with soap,
And evening never cautioned me
Against adding Yirgacheffe to my pint
Of warm milk. Am I going to die
If I fall asleep? Would have blown
My cover. So I told them I awoke
An acquantance at the witching hour
And forced him to listen to Cake’s
Most recent LP on the thirteenth floor
Overlooking a blackened suburb
Of columns and chic Clydesdales
Clouding the view of copper roofs
With their expensive farts.
As the epiphany struck me
That all air is poison and elevators
Make everything OK. As I shredded
The prescription and its bag, I asked
The passing carriage, Am I supposed
To involve a machete,
and keep to the woods?
very beautifull..