As revolutions pile one
My perceptions
Of what is real
Slip through these claws
One second so
Four dimensional
The next
A waking dream
Daze spent
Lips attached
To prosthetic limbs
Shaped like bottles
Blown glass
And cups of tea
Another trip
Into the familiar
Twisting landscape
Where escape
From the concrete
Steel
Straight lines and numbers
Is not only possible
But positively
Habit forming
A universe of space
Kaleidoscoping time
And vast
Terrifying silence
Where chameleons
Fear to loiter
And we natives
Wallow
In all this freedom
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