Psilocybin

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Dean Batten

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The world struck first, and the dispatched fist was but a recoil
Her knuckles bled hot glue as she reached her hands into the silt for more
My mother's hands are black, fight back the heart attack
Wet eyes like broken glass reflect my sorrow back

Psilocybin, fragile lynchpin

The world struck first, and the frozen water was an option
His fingers cold right through as he dug the snow out to make his hole
That dirt was hard and black, each breath a heart attack
The baby's crooked back, like cattle burned to ash

Psilocybin, like a woman

To the virgins there in paradise, keep your linens tight around you
Let your cheeks return to white, angelic demons feigning good...

Psilocybin, fragile lynchpin
Cracking open
Like a woman

OM, peace, peace, peace, death
Shallow death

I have never seen the sunrise
On a day like this
The change was subtle
But now, there is something been lifted
A weight I was carrying is now laid down
And I am totally unsure as to how
Or why

But I look out at the sky
And see the crisp blue
Coming on from the gray, which came on from the black
All dappled with stars
Now smoothing out to blue

It's curious, this enterprise
Bewildered by it all my life

They say the good artists borrow
And the great artists steal
I just want to be able to buy my next meal

They love that on the corner
Repeat it in the street
That horror is beautiful in its way, almost as beautiful as all this blue
And it's nice enough to make a man weep
But I don't weep
Do you?

Two eyes cast skyward amid the pain of death throes
Five fingers in a knurled knot around the cork
Bottle further jostled with indignant, silent pleas
The wine not nearly so white as my face

The system shocked with some feeling that hits like avarice
But is not avarice
Not greed
More some kind of Lust
A blank Lust
Like a desire to killed,
To watch the hordes of human interaction/incarnation trampled or otherwise smeared
And for the smearing to begin especially with me

Schubert's Opus Ninety swirls before my eyes like snakes on the ground
Snakes made of tears, made of rain

No death can come here
No sorrow
This is relief
And it comes fast like a thief
The Prophet was correct;
The secret of Death is found in Life
No seams here, no seams
You'll find no strings on me

I'll slip out when I deem necessary
The voice of a woman insists it's a good time now
I suppose the choice is made already
Drink to get the magic going
Let's see what's down there in the mud

Psilocybin, fragile lynchpin
Cracking open
Like a woman

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