27 March 2011

Gold Tops

a pasta dish conspired to wire the early
night – it serves no use explaining why
naiveté combined with mushrooms of
this ‘gold top’ kind induced intensely
weird hallucinations 

banal and giggly clichés rang with
hollowness as bouts of manic madness
jousted with those chintz and vaguely
so familiar labels disarrayed as quaintly
tinted porcelain 

nothing was the same again, doubts
aspired to climbing heights inclined to
test reality and rational minds – in finding
dizzy peace restrained they preyed on
vague uncertainty 

morning made a mute appeal to sanity’s
return; pale pellucid palisades appeared
between hallucinations lunacy and where
our itching teeth had been – we’ll never
take that trip again
© 23 December 2010, I. D. Carswell