Celestial Seasoning
I don’t know how to write this
And make it right
Then again
the perception of wrong
is not mine to own…
So here it goes:
I rattled off years,
While pointedly exposed
And then afterwards
in its hilarious digital retelling
To the owner of those years:
1990 something again and again
2000 something again and again
Dates transposed
With as much accuracy as possible
With the subconscious in charge
In each cell vibration
Its universal return
Like the first sunrise
On different continents
Sublime pleasure-scape
Over and over, over the years
Pinks building to hot pink
Orange, Red
Until the sun peaks,
Mellowing the sky
Lulling to satiated rest
… Knowing in all this exposure
I escaped to your continent
To escape each of those years
Even the ones that hadn’t happened
Yet…
There is no deficit,
I have gratitude
Man-I-Festing
in dampness
Sweat, quiddity, and breath
in and out, out and in
over and over and over again
So tonight I will dream,
(I usually do)
Maybe faces will blend together
But it won’t be awkward
Astral paintings
Where fear and manifestation
Rock worlds into
Sexy, abrasive existence
You can ask Dali; I am right.
None of this can be wrong.
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