clever ain't wise [ junkie with a vocabulary :: loadshedding sessions ]

                     ὁδὸς ἄνω κάτω μία καὶ ὡυτή

 

hot, bothered, and too sober for a day like everyday: "where are the pills?" scamper, shudde, scamper, thunder ••• hmm.. how big are ya, big pharma?? if i cant find my rabbit feet pharmacology treats --- how big are ya? the pills × the pills....where are they? 

         serious now, this time no jokes....  i would: pop, shoot, snort, smoke

  &  at this point, attempt the stevie nicks

rectal-suppository method 

 even if it caused a prolapsed anus 

 to cure this recurring hallucination. 

              [YOU KNOW THE ONE]      where john donne & john the baptist 

           wake me up, discussing hamlet & japanese omelette's 

in the alley behind my apartment 

 

                 I'm up now  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ 

 #

cum on over 

           if ya fancy a shag 

  oh ~ btw ~ have you got a bag? (BYOB)

               .... one, two, blow ....

                                  {and now - a story for the sake of it} 

》

hypnagogia fueled the blazing mania 

which triggered the buzz within my beehive mind

inside those hexagonal cells my braincells stirred a cocktail

of dysrhythmia and dysthymia, while my body kept busy filling the floor & all four walls 

with scribbled & sketched pages.

full-blown ascetic hermit  

  dealt secondhand cards 

of unintentional fasting & hypergraphia driven hand racing.

under these polar night's, the sky mirror's my inner life

eight months of stage fright 

front & centre at a two foot desk

staring at the glaring blank pages 

with chewed & overgrown fingernails.

 

preceding the darkness cast by this polar night

words by readers stirred with teaspoons of Nepalese honey

stung & began to swell 

in an imposter syndrome shaped blister

ashamed by the source of my creation

inspiration by whispers from the aether 

by an unnamed genie or a poetry-fairy 

 

  /////////////

 

under the haunting, sapphirine glare

  shining through my dust-crusted blinds 

the spring moon intrudes my sleep 

  & as a pawn in the firing-line 

       of the towering queen, Luna,

             i cower in the silvery shadows  

  among the lustful lurking, perverted, dark demons

as i contemplate the darkness of the moon 

   which merely mirrors the sunlight 

(akin to the malevolent, holographic entities 

      who rose daily with nightfall 

to howl tormenting reflections 

   & projections from deep below the ocean surface 

of my libidinous subconscious...

   the frozen iceberg mass which grows 

in the g-d forsaken abyssal abyssopelagic zone

 while the tip drips, treading yet barely staying afloat 

            melting into the salinity beneath. 

 

     { ¿ what are these ? }

rittle, rattle, rit for this rat,

and more than a little bit of this and that.

  there you are big guyyyy.

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