a jester in a funhouse thinking i am the wizard but seeing that my reflection is upside down and the maze has dry ice flashing phantoms to red rover rummy directions distracted in starts. A vacation destination that I forgot to leave making the concession attendant my bro and the tour director my goddess. The real world spook at least has branches and trees with limbs to grab onto and security to climb high. rooted. grounded. mirrors of truth not distortions made to contain the masses of lost kiddos seeking attractions and Eden’s pythons onto the life of me.

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