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more gonzo stuff. based on a night out gone wrong in London. not sure i like the opening of this one, seems a bit "over the top" but i just whack it down as it comes, y'know?
any feedback appreciated n harsh words won't hurt this walrus ok?
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Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN
gliding over fields of lean green grass, scanning with eyesight integral to the visual capacity of my mind, i worship and adore the tiny fungal additions to the forests of blades.
seeing those little wriggling things hiding in the secondary capillaries of my hypathalamus, i dream of a daydream of little writhing people sprouting from the earth and screaming in agony as they are born to the air. its kinda good.
but then i'm on the nearest platform, a clown on the underground staring at the, well, the ground.
its the nearest thing to me. i stand up and feel the earth rotate under my feet. thats pretty disconcerting until the wall rises up and embraces my head with a friendly crack. CRACK. ouch.
shit. now i'm back to life, lying with the world up against my head as i stand against the wall of the floor, a couple of cigarette ends glued to the surface of the mountain.
now this isn't at all normal. theres a thing staring me in the eye and its got legs, and it stands on the wall and talks in a kind of slow motion drawl, thats not understandable at all. shiny boots though.
spinning now.
still spinning. it hurts.
maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away, and heck, i'll sing for the tears, but now i'm propped up in a corner amongst the debris, and my fingers feel like worms tearing a way into the tiles and really, y tu mama tambien, thats the best sound i can say so i say it over and over, not sure did i shout that? or whisper it?
y tu mama tambien.
i really like that sound.
maybe tomorrow the cleaners will take me away. |
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