Trippy blue oysters were in my throat, I could hardly breathe. “Jesus the water in my breast, I saw that fiend, he dressed in black. Fuck!” Airplane memories and grim thoughts attacked my smile. Jack was a Cat, floating Libra dances tango to death in endings at subscript font.
Laughter spread through the auditorium. The ceiling was against me, I knew. And narcotics agents slit my throat, only to realize I was made of bubbles and red salmon came out of my brain. Lucid dreams dreamt in the night and large beginnings crashed into a red corvette. Killing the only known descendant of George Washington Carver, the peanut man. YES it’s true. Sunshine almost always makes me high. HAHAHAHA… Arch of past feel my roar! Why is this city so small, I thought aloud. Bring me to the sky oh acid dream, bring me above and beyond. Mother, don’t kill me. The floor seemed massive and the air seemed tight. I was confused at the sight of closing my eyes. Drum beats rule the brain. Fast-paced and moving to light orchestras. Bop bop bop bop bop bop.
Jack looked like a Monster, furry with eyes like the night lit moon. Drool ragtag memories on ancient bed spreads and cherubic dance moves hid behind our car, the Ghost Man. Trees looked to me like a spaceship knife.
“How are you standing on your hind legs you sick mongrel?
You aren’t my father,” asked Jack/Rabbit slims. Jerky daze.
-Jon Rockefeller
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