June 21

He rests his eyes on a fine point in the distance, comfortable in the sun, with a head full of acid. There is no darkness, only beautiful spaces between all of the moments in the open air. All is colorful music, eye-opening scents, filling his nose with flavors of the earth. He meditates peaceful thoughts and wonders the root of our existence. How inebriated he must be to write his masterpiece? He has dark black hair of a stallion but it changes in waves like tinted windows on a limousine reflect light. Having the breath to back a forgetful morning. Good luck with your day, tripping through triplets and stumbling down stairs into backroom cellars, looking for booze. Weird associations in his head, constantly bombard him but he sways with the emotional wreckage, accepting these translations. Mailboxes remind him of his dead brother. The house fire sent to him through a faint whisper in the air. Someone was talking about the weather and how the clouds looked like fiery cotton swabs, yellow and orange, burning over the center of the city in a mushroom cloud. There are tie-dye shirts everywhere, flowers for guns, especially with the police involved. He vaguely remembers goals he must achieve but lets his mindset erase these concerns with ease. "There is no way to accomplish anything now," he thinks, "Let yourself enjoy this free-moment before you are settled again into the awful crushing reality beyond today." Dancing on fingertips, the floating up of dead memories from a foggy shoreline, there was no sun the day he went to the beach. So many dogs walking and running and pissing. Lay down a towel on the concrete and let the cars lap over you like waves crashing. There is no pain, he thinks. This is a magic carpet and the ride will take me into sun. I will spend my sunrise recollecting my sunset. Here, on the top of mountains, the little village shimmers happily with laughable security. He can do anything and this invincible feeling should not disappear once he comes down. If he grasps it right, everything will forever remain beautiful. The sky will appear so many colors and the scientists who invented the potion will be forever indebted to his grateful, peaceful, empathy. He feels everything with a wince.