Typical Trip

“Hey Buddy,” A voice swam at me
From beyond my carousel.
“Where you at?” It asked
In sounds akin to cadence,
Taking on the swimming beats
Surrounding us.
The hopping part of my forebrain
Kept steady jolting rhythm
While another part behind it
Considered the question.
Fighting through the heavy
Rainbow fog
It gave me a response,
Any response.
“Mellow as fuck man,”
I growled
“Mellow. As. Fuck.”

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