He canít control the driving speed on ruby lane
once the limit is removed,
He lets loose the chemical corruption
and it eats itself instantly
melting his brain into a roasted slush
reaching a startling intensity
right after breakfast sizzle,
and a grade or two from mid-day sun.
Slow down, these streets are razed like pedestals
hinting at the hidden mire beneath
gripping and entrapping with its lava spray.
Through a slit in-between a printing press
walls melt, clocks turn and tick and pulse in the ground.
Reality is throbbing, wounded, seeping slowly into an old pail for rain collecting;
more like the bottom of the well.
Souls are sinking trapped and lost within it
a universe, layered into existence
slowly coming unglued and peeling off
into the mighty ocean swell of mother earth.
Eternity is sinking into walls that ripple
swiftly twirling like pop-ups in
those nifty books they used to sell.
Where meaning did rise from booked abyss,
and the mariner did wait above the sinking ship
watching woefully as it ceased to be.
I floated on
wasting away and getting lost in the music.
One moment lasted all my life.
I was dragging time from leashes in the park
like dogs that realized just before they broke away
that underneath them was nothingness
and that nothing was a scary thing.
He wore a symbolic mask; vexed
as last second attempts fell through
and he realized that he gave his all just one eternity too late.
He died inside once or twice,
or better yet, He never was.
The storm did rage,
And its depth consumed all of him.
Reborn now he moves on