ginsy

Atavistic, anachronistic, ararchistic
Freedom
Under infinite blue skies
But maggots crawl
And I have itchy balls
So it’s hard to get enthusiastic
About the endless days of smoky haze
Puff, puff, puff
Clouds like cotton streaking the sky
I’m feeling high
My brain is tie-dyed
Can’t seem to arrange my shit
Even a little bit
Mental malfunction
Broken gears
Stuffed sprockets
I’ve got the fear
Ginsberg heard Blake read
Sunflower
Saw soaring towers over profound vistas
Hallucinatory sunlight
Irradiating poppy fields
But wait there’s more
Crystal lakes
Subtle ambience
Heavenly angels disguised as heavenly angels
Bodily metamorphosis into a being of light
Stars blend and merge into fractal metapatterns
Gentle breeze
Feeling at ease

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