There is nothing like being legally/illegally stoned on a weekend... sounds like back trouble. Anyhoo, beautifully written in that stone-stoned sense of being and the rundown of who is who & where, so knowing that makes it ok to be facedown in the carpet, cuz my buddy Earl is on the porch if I should need to holler...
Really nice write here, and a joy to read.
Bland, little tastless, little pill, little mind
expanding into deserts of satisfaction. A drooling smile
and reality goes to Cuba.
The sunset fox, his red fur as soft as silence, fornicates
with your skin. It tingles and feels not unlike a silk pine tree. Sunset fox. make. me. ahhhh.
Should our minds arrive, they would be horrified. Too bad they'll never know the slick feeling of the controls, hyperdrive and crashing towers crashing the patina of virtual dimensions fading wait the desert a mirage the bed the sheets incandescent lightbulb blinds me is it morning outside...
Damn. I think I'll take another.
'The sensual exploding language of the land of Soma', written by Asiatic Fox for J. Morales, 06/19/09