Datura Stramonium Delirium

I feel lovely tonight
As I lie in my bed
Breathing in the soft frocks
Spinning open like a ballerina’s skirt
On pointe

Floating
Simply
Couru
Glissade
Across the wooden floor
Like the ghosts
That live here
With me

One a member of the
First Nation’s tribe
Algonquian
That is trying to speak to me
In his ancestral tongue
Ojibwe
As the erect trunks
Of the Devil’s Trumpet
Reach high up into the midnight moon’s glow
Of the October sky
A good eight to nine feet tall
Orange bell flowers
Hanging just below my windows
Glowing
Like small lit pumpkins

I lie quietly in bed
Breathing in tropane alkaloids
Atropine
Hyoscyamine
Scopolamine

And I understand
As he tells me
How the Lord Shiva
Was fond of smoking the Datura
And that they smoked together once
Using the Algonquian pipe
Spending several days
Crossing skies
And galaxies

Holding hands
And dancing

Grand Jete
Entrechat
Fouette En Tournant

The Indian man presented his pipe
To the Lord as a gift
And they still keep in touch
As spirits can

The Indian man ghost
Closed my eyes
With his invisible fingers
Offering me protection

As ballerinas’ skirts drop
At different times
Throughout
The length of night
Landing
Upon the ground
Far below
Leaving their attractive white legs
Naked and exposed

Heavy Narcotics

My dogs just got their balls
Chopped off.

After 10 and 5 years respectively.

My son went with me to the clinic
To pick them up.

“All done”
She said.

“They’re doing great!”

Another woman brings them out.

They are drug stupid.

They’re wobbling all over the place
And Cocoa proceeds to pee
All over himself.

We leash them up
And head out of the door.

Cocoa
Walks straight into it
Banging his head
Acting like nothing has happened.

I know that routine only too well.

I have to lift them up into the car.

Understandably so.

The woman at the clinic
Told me that it was okay to walk them
When I got home.

So I did.

They had no bearings
And they stumbled up the steps
As I dropped my son off at the house.

He was laughing
At their dopey antics.

“Now you go read”
I told him
Caught up in tangled dog leashes.

The dogs stumbled back down the steps
Tongues panting loudly.

Cottonmouth?

They swayed all over the sidewalks
Running into things
Running over things
Glazed over for moments at a time.

The little one pissed on the big one’s head.

The big one crashed into an election sign
On somebody’s front lawn.

I looked at the two of them admiringly
Knowing that they were stoned.

The laughs just came out of me.

I think about all of the times
That I have acted like this
By my own account
Or others...

Stumbling through bushes
Banging my head on something
Moving zig zag
Through streets or apartments
Pissing all over myself.

Acting with the same fervent nonsense
That I see my poor balless dogs
Performing in front of me
Though
I’m sure that they are too high to know
They are without balls yet.

Breaks my heart champs.

While I’m walking them back to the house
I notice
That they are not pulling me
Which is the norm

And that there are times when
I am actually pulling them
Saying

“C’mon, let’s go!”
But they are dope stupid
Languishing
The non sensical moment
That I had lived for many years

And
Not by choice
They
Had just discovered.

The Dream *By FogBob MoonSkull*

One night I dreamed
Of how much gas would be needed
To run a 4,000 foot long car.

The next night I didn't.

That’s what he said.

And I replied...

One night I dreamt I sold you that car.

The next night I dreamt I sold you the gas
To fill that car’s tank and became a rich man.

The following night thereafter

I dreamt you ran me over.

If you've never been run over by a 4000 foot car
It takes forever.

And as the car is passing over me
Endlessly
I yell up to Bob

“Re-tire the car!”

I noticed some balding
Happening on the tires
As he drove over me.

But it was too late.

He was already 2,500
Feet away.