Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Flash of the eyes

I was entrenched: 
a pool of dirty laundry,
the system seemed to take
a turn for the worse—the shit was filtering through the fan. 
I noticed the exit-
a far cry from those
velvet red clay Georgia roads
I use to leave contrails on,
and now I recount
my experiences with the Nunnehi 
as I evoked the little green fairy from Switzerland.