I’ve been to a place at
the end of the sidewalk.
In between safety and
wild debauched nights of
concrete and neon.
It’s a tabula rasa.
Pristine and precious.
I love it there
where creativity and
innocence dwells on the
backs of phoenix birds and
purple pigeons,
and on the slopes of verdant
valleys, lush with cerulean
blue ponds.
The trees all
gave and gave.
Dragon fruit and
mangoes and
plants that taught me
things.
Every fish and turtle that
I caught talks of Keroack
and Dali,
dreams, and love.
Serenity,
thick as maple syrup.
I met some surreal people
and creatures in this land.
And every damn one
of them oozed
compassion and
truth from
every pore.