Rain drenched my black hair and clothes, and paint was the result.
Black split into colours of the spectrum,
stripping me naked and clothing kitty cats, the sky and homunculus figments
who handed me more pieces of paper to chew up Liquid Soap Dove
when all I wanted was the smoke coming out of the spiral lighthouse tower.
My eyes coloured red, green, blue, yellow, purple;
reflected laser beams of purple, yellow, blue, green and red
on shades of grey.
My mouth saw strawberries, kiwis, blue berries, bananas, and prunes…
My tongue became jealous and swallowed itself,
spreading rumours in my stomach about how my mouth cheated on it.
Juicy fruit endows me with literal pissy feelings
in a world where people pay me to pee on their perfect lives so that they can feel less like prisses
and I am entitled to presumptuous promiscuity.
I need my bass singing bartender to blend a mix of blue bullfrogs to bring me down from this high of oozing flavour.
This overwhelming orchestra of sweet saliva sends synaptic signals to cells in CA1 to 3 (forget about the 2!) to correspond with bipolar ganglion cells that taste this
disgusting hippocampal memory of the candy coloured pink.
Stop swindling my senses!
Cotton candy clouds covered the cancerous sun, blinded reality
and so it rained pink purifying nausea over me and ended my
tryptophanic trip of trust.
But where was the turkey?
image credit: Lady Grinning Soul