I want to go to dreamland and stay there. To live among the colored angels and broken glass voodoo kings. To be anything but this comatose soul. To be anything but a sleepy creepy doll in a kaleidoscopic straitjacket of the mind. Now autumn longing. The orange sun ablaze on the ground and in the trees. Walkways littered with colored leaves. Bowed head in red lamps corridor. Pink floors. A crowd in the distance. Keep them there, away from me. I want to be in the solitude chamber of the midnight mall. Today white-gray sky. Rain in the air. An ache in my guts. Lackadaisical opium fields stretch out to the horizon. Happiness taunts me.

By

Aaron Echoes August