Mushrooms
And our lives really are
nicely shaped
primitive blunders
filtered and fashioned
out of that dream sense
you always speak of
And the world
still holds tight
we sit still staring
motionless at the ground
layered twirling and
shifting beneath us
Until the dust
this golden speechless dust
its ghostness enough
to rise up cloudy into my red skin
Your red skin getting finer
even more crystallized
than those bright blue veins
We are worlds turned upside down
newer than this
world of psychedelic rocks
Ancient trees
stare at us
chess pieces
the tumbling ground
filling now with infinite prairies
and valleys and dancing sand dunes
Does it hurt sometimes?
losing to the thoughts of turning back
comes close to blindness
sometimes this fading clarity
breathing and sighing
I close my eyes enough
now to feel the throbbing sun
absorb me
I'm awake
I remember
Jake Mahaffey
Copyright (c) 2013 Jacob Mahaffey