[This was originally published in F.U.C.K. poetry Issue #17. The publish date is approximate. Originally written December 20, 1997.]
Trip like I do. Visuals beynd comprehension. Experience is a new thrill. Alchohol is water Drus are a waste of time. Red wine mixing red blood. Pure soul pouring out living death screaming inward stop slow start, recover from old begin again, quick return fucking scream through me! I used to be somebody I am everyone. The world is me. Beyond, flowing aroud all done Trip like I do.