Saturday, September 18, 2010

Post Peaceful Ecstasy Disorder

I dream whales each night, wake at the sound

of my voice calling out in sonar

Also, orgasms at the sight of doves

The touch of wind spawns spontaneous waltzing

I rocket to the rafters at the thought of mud

An ant and I mind-fly over cocoa islands

Pirate-dressed, I shop for candy at funerals

A tongue of rice brings back the first breast

The smell of glass water I am wet for

A breeze comes my last hawk life, where again

I am circling, circling smells

I will dive down for, and eat

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