Sensory Riot

Should I take another hit?

This here is the brim of sane,

Right here,

The space that my knees erase

When I fight to hold in piss.

I wobble

I feel a moth in my throat

With wings of adrenaline

Fluttering in frenzy rush

To liberate itself

I swallow

Choking on the moldy fur

Imagining that its head

Hits my uvula

Again

Again

Again

I hold ethereal vomit

And I swear its eyes expand

I laugh and I hear a screech

Melodies that transfix

Coming from my tired lungs

Where the beast has gone to die.

It feels vulgar, this death, like dust

Its antennae like blades of wheat

Long and lithe

Barely moving

 

 

 

And I go for one more hit.

 

Reviews

[Everett DeValle]

Gosh, this is Poetry...and its ashame that this never got reviewed...awesome emotions to awesome imagery that seats a reader on a ride...good stuff.