Augmented Reality - Aron Swanson
Siddhartha, nesting in your head
What an honor
for reading the Book of the Dead
Ducking bowing submerging
shallow waters
silently signaling others
the quaint perfection pours
purple covers over their eyes
Gifting each nerve with new sight
They’ve gotten control, become fearless
while daffodils and sun
give up suchness
flowering foliage of a million bright ambassadors
illuminating experience
shine through our eyes
Walking back from heaven
I realize I can do no harm
they must be mistaken
arrest me of murder?
Eyes lifting off jurors mallet
across the sea of faceless peers
across the grainy film of ghastly doings
of which I have no recollection
red pools spilling from broken jaw lines
smashed eyeballs and peeled bones
my expression of pure ecstasy
became a sobering
from nirvanic distate
I plead insanity
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