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Or would you rather be a fish?

January 23, 2018

 

The smoke befogs my brain

A stone hits the surface of the water

and the images become distorted replicates of their original 

form

the sunlight slowly 

fades

the nameless day

passes

then night falls

into a different sphere of

sappy pinks 

in

swampy puddles

 

happily he greets me

the small blue fish

waving his elegant

shiny bright flappers

proudly protecting

his empire

a round bowl

that could fit a man's head

 

holds the holy water

where my thoughts float loosely

in dreary

chicken broth

a sick day's 

alphabet soup

piecing together words

fever delusions 

slowly spooning up

 

R-

E

-A-

L

-I

-

T

-Y

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