Contributor: Paul Tristram
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Pretty paper parcels
All wrapped up tight.
Containing powder wings
To set my mind in flight.
Releasing all the stress
I’m not invisible tonight.
Take a lick, take a dip
There’s plenty, it’s alright.
Sleep is for the straight
Tonight I’m on a different ride.
Sorted by an hippy
In the pub outside.
Rushes come like waves
Sensational mental tides.
Speech racing like a roller coaster
Consciousness ninety miles wide.
I’m surfin’ mirrors
Once again, here I go.
I’m surfin’ mirrors
Smiling, shovelling snow.
I’m surfin’ mirrors
Got that white line fever.
I’m surfin’ mirrors
With a razorblade thin cleaver.
Rolling up banknotes
White luminous dust.
Line ‘em up, line ‘em up
Fuel this junkie lust.
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Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.
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Pretty paper parcels
All wrapped up tight.
Containing powder wings
To set my mind in flight.
Releasing all the stress
I’m not invisible tonight.
Take a lick, take a dip
There’s plenty, it’s alright.
Sleep is for the straight
Tonight I’m on a different ride.
Sorted by an hippy
In the pub outside.
Rushes come like waves
Sensational mental tides.
Speech racing like a roller coaster
Consciousness ninety miles wide.
I’m surfin’ mirrors
Once again, here I go.
I’m surfin’ mirrors
Smiling, shovelling snow.
I’m surfin’ mirrors
Got that white line fever.
I’m surfin’ mirrors
With a razorblade thin cleaver.
Rolling up banknotes
White luminous dust.
Line ‘em up, line ‘em up
Fuel this junkie lust.
- - -
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.
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Author:
Paul Tristram
