West Village Acid Trip

Jangly janky angry smoking
locust morning shadow frankly
filtered golden earthly fuel
waking up not feeling right
picking shattered id
stuffing stuffed skulls
walking, maybe rid
me of my child's eyes

and the last night
numb gums crystal chandeliers
antique apartments landscape
constable's laments
and tiny marble headless armless
legless men projecting needs of
cigarettes
I give and seem not able
to reclaim the feeling

In the darkness women like
men akin, entwine my mind
differentiate the pools
of light from
blackened faces
flit to and fro - slide
and glide, buy the ticket
take the ride

tattooed policemen take my name
theirs are their arms
boa constrictors manipulate
pens and papers without fingers
on the west side highway
the park is closed
can't say a thing
in 'til monday
won't keep us a
forty-eighth of a day

In the morning, though, I try
to piece it all together
floating on my acid cloud
men have children, responsibility
visit four starbucks a day
gay runners, men with tits
big white egrets strut
musty space by jesus christ
birds go cluck cluck cluck
jangly janky angry smoking
my brain goes f**k f**k f**k