[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.