I’m going to use my usual preamble space to explain this poem. For some reason, I was suddenly struck with the memory of my High School health where we were learning about acid. They told us about some accounts of people stuck in permanent trips. For whatever reason, this also triggered a memory from when I watched Dead Poets Society. Then I wrote this poem approximately three years ago. I think it’s a pretty silly poem.
A C I D
Acid is a sweaty toothed madman so obsessed with his own crispy deliciousness, he fears eating himself everyday
And so he does and is nothingness
He has no mouth and must scream
So he screams, “Help me goddammit! Help me! I’m a glass of orange juice!
A glass of orange juice on a carousel! Trying not to spill!”
So they put him in the freezer and check the expiration date in the morning
To see if he’s going to be good yet
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