The warehouse of my mind is empty.
Muted blues, like a Miles Davis groove,
begin to fill the dusky expanse.
Deep purples, plums and cherries,
a hint of vermilion,
all flow down onto the floor of my consciousness.
The colors, each separated by a thin black border,
swirl and drain into a wormhole in the floor.
My consciousness follows.
I enter a place filled with bicycles, skateboards,
fireflies, honeysuckle vines, super heroes and pets.
Scenery flashes by in rapid-fire succession like trees
on the side of the side of the road when I was a little
kid, with my head hanging out of the car window
until my mom yelled at me to put my head back in
the car where it belonged.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 11:42 AM UTC
The warehouse of my mind is empty.
Muted blues, like a Miles Davis groove,
begin to fill the dusky expanse.
Deep purples, plums and cherries,
a hint of vermilion,
all flow down onto the floor of my consciousness.
The colors, each separated by a thin black border,
swirl and drain into a wormhole in the floor.
My consciousness follows.
I enter a place filled with bicycles, skateboards,
fireflies, honeysuckle vines, super heroes and pets.
Scenery flashes by in rapid-fire succession like trees
on the side of the side of the road when I was a little
kid, with my head hanging out of the car window
until my mom yelled at me to put my head back in
the car where it belonged.
