So I took some DXM and myristicin earlier. This is the result. I wrote this on the spot. It's basically a summation of my depression, sexual hunger, loneliness, and drug induced dream states.

13 dimensional guitar picks make
liquid light explode into shards through window panes,
leaving parallelograms of blond warmth on the wall.
discrete precipitations of moments unfettered from time,
like splashes in a cosmic stream of infinite return,
shutter back and forth in scrambled order like a
haberdasher's puzzle falling in the wind.
but is my brain a folded flesh cage
from which I cannot escape?
perhaps this entire universe of painted lilies and
black skies filled brimwise with starclutter is inside
my head.

crimson curtains cry vermilion silk sheets,
scarlet symphonies of sad, sour seventeens
string simple harmonies along streets and coffee shops
for eyes to see and ears to glimpse, if only fleetingly.
90's wishes childhood for sunshine summer ocean sky,
to go back into easier times when simple songs and single
scenes reigned centuries and decades' time.