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