the trip is long and strange

the cherry falls off your cigarette,

dusty blinds that shade the window,

the veins in the back of my hand

they all exhale inhale exhale in unison

bubbled drip off the ceiling as smoke falls

falls straight from my ears,

and i can hear my goldfish singing jazzy blues songs down the hall next to my grandma’s bedroom

which is full of butterflies and spies

while nosy neighbors knock on the door

and i’m already late for work

i wonder if i’ll get fired

laundry on the floor

unrelenting neverending

in odd patterns shapes and colors

hurry up!

the dogs are barking at something in the yard

and all the grass is long and orange