it wasn't absinthe...
                                      just ***...
   but i was looking
                            at videos,
stretching my legs
                      in a crucifix pose...
tina "*******" turner...
                           i'm reclining in my
                                chair...
and then my feet
                                "move"...
      i love the illusion,
i'm staring at them citing
myself: what the ****?
i swear i'm supposed
to be aquarium / cross-eyed
at this point...
    down another pint,
and call it quits?
                                   **** me...
just stretching my feet
in a lower-body crucifix pose...
and they start to "move"?
         tina ******* turner!
is that as bad chris de burgh's
     a spaceman came travelling...
  that ****** bit of david bowie?
la la, ****, ha ha.
i'm still reclining,
     imposing with my legs crossed,
and i too am hallucinating
           them moving...
***?
             ***?! ******* pirate like?
yeah...
           pirate like....
        internalise burping...
or like me in a catholic school,
having internalißed amen...
       1 hour's worth of detention
after school, for having internalißed
a yawn, during prayer
               prior to a lesson...
                 ever internalißed a yawn,
i.e. without opening your mouth?
                    *******, jesus;
comes the time to mention
              walther von brauchitsch,
no reason, other than to just
**** you off,           dearest jew;
                            ******* paddies:
you gonna sing me some
******* westlife while you're at it?
please do...
    i'd hate to hear
             rod stewart's mandolin...
or anything by jeff or his father's
timothy buckley pieces;
   please... enlighten me...
   so i might squirm like
                the naturally squirming
       tibetan...
   when ******* a lemon; point
       two fifth's of a **** that you are?
fun hallucination though...
   nothing spectacular to be honest...
just your crucifix folded feet...
      and wearing household sandals,
against the dark... propped against
the windowsill...
    they almost always seemed to
move...
          believe me, i wish i had access
to some l.s.d.;
    and no, these days, the hallucinatory
element once contained in absinthe,
is completely missing; they just made
                            a 99% proof;
given that: you'll be drinking
that **** alone,
        or with a girl eating liquorice,
deciding to confront the idea of shoelaces
         with spaghetti.