It was wild, in my world

tonight…(These) weren’t just everyday,

tracers and loomers, eye was seeing-hulking

figures, (that) stand idle, but always

conveniently, barely visible, to

me and my wasting peripheral vision.

Casting shadows over my task

at hand-my stomach

knows, that enormity, is not

the only oddity-I don’t want

to see. Twisted and malformed creatures,

(with formative dens, in

the darkest, deep places), have always

sought comfort, in

my hallucinatory worlds. But these

unfortunates; low down, drooling, perversions

of a sick and hopeless world, well….

After observing them for (what

may well have gone into tomorrow);

I give them the title of



[Psychotropic worlds, “they”

write prescriptions to remedy, are

seemingly adaptable-I live in

them, quite comfortably]. (I think

that), this is just a natural course

of my suddenly, (more often,

sullenly), misplaced sobriety. My

attempts to describe, the

things I see, daily, (through disrupted

senses), are pale and ordinary.

If only you could see…through my

red, eyes-through dulled,

binocular vision, (vibrating,

my very core, to its already

unsteady foundation). If only

you could feel…through the castor,

black walls of my


unmended), heart. If only

you could process…these images,

through my limpid, stripped

brain. (Always misfiring, and

blacking out, in dizzying attempts to

function). It’s horror show

fiction-as real as my own

reflection; ultimately imprisoned,

within the confines of my tired,

old soul…unimpressed by anything ,



It’s not frightening,

or even

unusual. It’s

just another flight,

through the crevices;

the urban

slums, my rural home-

stead…day and

night. A place for

my imaginary


to fight…


My World.




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