Trip #8

How many substances can alter
your very next evening
& make it feel like a desert stop
unpredicted
a Jesus car-wreck
predestined
valleyball w/ sharks
in the wrecked hotel room's middle...
the carousel madness unveiled
hashishin's journey come-true
all goods plantator's bookstore
& new death religions

smile:
enjoy your teeth
make it seem like good scenario
landscapes
for those fortunate dogs
stormcloud-clothed
whipped and shaken
mustache wearing bastards
who did run like mad
into the jimmy-jam folding
of the dissonance glass
outta the stripclub murder nightmare
into mademoiselle's mescaline
territorial sacrum...

why this damned 4am
again...

why the tango always starts
when all the whisky's gone
& chicks left home
to watch some Fellini
alone & perfected
banging detuned pianos
all nite long
in pure
vaginal
monopoly