Psilocybin, Anal Sex, and Videogames

 

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted some poems, so here’s some goddamn poems! These are three samples of a collection I’ve been slowly compiling. To be honest, I don’t know exactly what I’m going for here. As of now, I’m taking random pieces of imagery and morphing them into full-on LSD freak-outs. There’s a bit of a threesome between science, humor and drug culture happening here. To be honest, I haven’t made full sense of what the fuck I’m going for. At the least, I hope they’re entertaining. I’m just kind of writing whatever the hell I feel. Title still pending…

 

Black Light Poster of Two Robots Fucking: Electric Purple

 

1

Fuck, an unfortunate turn on this trip

Psilocybin sublimation forms a particular tracer

Electric purple string of fog protrudes from my throat

It enters one particular black light poster out of the many

Resuscitates the mechanics and inflames the dimensions,

connects the imaginary electrodes of life by a disembodied wire

My eyeballs twist into points, aimed at the fluorescence

My body melts into phosphorescence as I gaze at it

The poster is alive and moving

Terminator porn in 3D

 

2

Sex between the borgs

It’s like terrible grinding metal sneers

Titanium bodies with all sharp corners

Shifting plates of crude industrial design

The sparks of scratching bolts spread the purple fire throughout the room

They plant the tiny blinking lights of robot babies

Some are in my mouth, some in my scalp

Most of them like stars of some indoor galactic cloud

Now I’m surely lost in space as a dysfunctional probe

An undervalued member of the robot threesome

Drifting flesh amidst the technological wanking

A blob among precise lasers

 

3

Panic due to solipsism

Everything but me is not real

Hallucinogenic reality – blasts of cold color

Black light tube is a trepan, paralyzes

No instauration possible

The contrails of enlightenment vaporized

The scriptures of sanity are psychobabble

Just electricity in a gobbet in endless Sisyphean cycle

Torn into spiritual void

Torn into violet de profundis

Sack of trash in the intergalactic unknown

Non

 

 

Alien Butt-Probing at Computer Carnival of 2051

 

Phase 1:

Upside down cardboard boxes, placed equal distance on orange shag carpet

Have concentric squares marked in black on each side, shrinking into infinity

The boxes are equally centered in our marijuana circle

 

Phase 2:

We each take a toke in a uniform motion

So our minds uniformly enter – yet individually separate

into the cyber-voids on each box side

We fall into them square after square at identical speed

 

Phase 3:

The nanoseconds slow as I approach

Then time stops at the base of the gravitational well

In the court of the computer carnival, I orbit many one-story satellite chips

They rotate on their robotic lazy susans

 

Phase 4:

With frame-dragging torque I’m pulled onto the circuit board

Crushed pistachio green copper lines arranged like a maze of streets

that lead to the main hall of rapidly expanding cyberverse

 

Phase 5:

I never manage to reach apex

On my way, I’m ambushed by an irregularity

I’m bent over, force fed a suppository

Butt cheeks jam-packed with a nuclear chemical reaction from a tube

that’s bolted to a steampunk robot tank

 

Phase 6:

Half way through the heinous act,

I retreat up into the concentric square sky, still attached to dangling apparatus

I morph through the threshold, back to home base

Out of the box and on the orange shag carpet again

 

Phase 7:

All the others are laughing at me

As the drug fades, the joke is made clear

In the middle of a mess of cardboard boxes,

among the zipping sounds of zippers being zipped behind me,

my asshole is the sorest that it’s ever been

 

 

You’re Never Going to Beat the Level 8 Boss, So Forget It

 

No cheat code, Epsilon

This is an impenetrable gigabyte city of Mega Blok pixel bricks

With enemies numerous like rainfall

Decagon sleet of multi-colored lights drains your energy

As you trudge through it at an inch and a quarter thick

 

Your depleting strength bar is painless

Your willpower is unscarred, however hopeless the chances

Just endure the laser soma blasts

Just ignore the 8 bit gunfire against your chest

It’s killing you, but there’s no blood

No reason to feel like you’re losing

 

Approach Crystal Castle headquarters

Conceal the secret weapon until the right time

When the pre-boss level is reached,

when those L-shaped Tetris guns mounted on every ledge point at you,

then boost up the last of your power

Only sacrifice will win the war

 

The time clock is running out

I hope to hell you’ve got enough energy

Make this last running jump-and-stomp count

I hope you squash the boss man under your boots

 

Because even if you leave most of the others dead,

even if the infrastructure collapses

The final high score doesn’t count if the monster remains alive at Game Over

 

Featured image by Tiger11th via FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *