i got so stoned
i forgot to laugh
at myself while i instead
inside my head
shuddered at the dread
of my convictions
in my world of worlds
where i have it all
i count high those who fall
and bend to my rule
with every wave of my hand
while i weave us through
my little wet noodle
which gave pause
to give pause
and still does
in my mind
Tags: Avant-garde, writing and poetry
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