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Running Cups

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At last I heard his voice;
The words unclear
About the third time 'round
The sound grew distance
And I heard the words......

Clarity grew many vines
I couldn't tell you in
Repetition exactly what
The words were......

Only that I was asked what state I was in....

Shaman man explained poeticaly
The details of our test
Mixing, melding alchemist palms

There were four;
Olive's oil
A tincture?

Explaining poeticaly once more
This time delicately

We would trail into the room with the locked door
Running past the beast,
Drinking exactly half the potion

Then and only then
would the door open
Thus lending a hand in rejeuvination.

The beast was dog-like
Spotted dalmation
Paper tiger teeth
... a brick tower

A brick-shit house
Approaching out of a closet's
Darkened corner

I fumbled with the potion
I tried to drink
My half
The bittery seedy taste
Wounding my tongue

I was nothing short of clumsy,
I could never be the graceful swan
And the drinking lasted forever
Always with one hand on the beast's muzzle

And he did nothing; stared....

When the potion was handed to him,
He placed it high up

Out of reach
Out of sight
Out of mind

One hand on the ancient's body
My eyes fixed on the exit

And I heard him whisper breathlessly
What did they think it would do?

And I heard shaman magik
Cry from that same dark corner
What state are you in?
The words were clear once more

Did they think I was in New York?
Current Music:
MAD laughing
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