Expo 86, the World's Fair, I ate
seated in a makeshift French-style bistro
carrying two hits into Vancouver
acid from the mid-80s, watered down
released to roam away from my parents
granted I should have run away right there
only my brain was baked, I could not think
to get away and hide in Canada
on LSD, the metaphysical
not only becomes real, I tasted God
as a teenager trying escargot
covered in butter and garlic with bread
in that moment, I stole into heaven
despite being seventeen and a punk
No comments:
Post a Comment