The Blindman’s Bluff

crawling out of my skin
where am I going
where do I begin?

in and out I go
the briefest thought
melting like april snow.

take a shot of reality
Blindman’s Bluff—
the drink for me.

Spin through a haze
of Elmo’s fire
wake up in a daze
languid desire
think it’s just a phase
swim in the sky without getting tired
dry in the suns brilliant rays
singing from celestial choirs
serenade your day.

Then crashing to earth, fall
like those shooting stars
feel short though you know you’re tall
feel fast like a speeding car.

Then sluggish and slow
the world comes up
and you feel the under tow
the heart has hiccups;

and you cling to the ground
unsure of the grassy scent
what is this you’ve found?
after all the places you’ve been?

and you’re crawling out of your skin
unsure of where you end or begin
each thought a sirens howling song
telling time, what’s past since you’re gone
and in the heat you’re cooked till tough
parched lips; dry mouth: tongue, sandpaper rough—
you rasp out a call
for a “Blindman’s Bluff.”

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