The Girdwood Fungus Fair is this weekend! Let your inner mycologist shine by going on a little adventure in Girdwood’s backyard. There’s nothing like virgins, water, and mushrooms to get the mind misbehaving.
I crawled back into the womb.
Not my mother’s womb
nor the girl down the streets womb.
But a sleeping bag
a Moonstone womb.
A Moonstone womb
sheltered from the breeze
Enough snacks to last 4 hours
climate controlled 98.6
almost like moms.
Curled up in an embryo ball
ready to receive Freudian like dreams
Back of my eyelids begin to dance.
Visions not Sigmund.
Visions of weird colorful shapes.
A vision of figures not demons or spirits.
People melting, ordinary people
like you and me.
A nude 3 inch girl flies with fairy like motion.
Her cheeks pulsate rosy red.
She says only two words in a familiar Beatle accent
She melts into the black void.
My hands reach out
I hit the Moonstone womb wall.
I realize my eyes are open
this is reality not a dream.
I stick my head outside
I feel the breeze,
I see the pines,
Moon’s still bright,
rocks still solid
Mother Earth reality.
I hiked along the creek to experience nature.
I prayed to God for a blessing.
I ate his flesh.
I slip back into the Moonstone womb.
Outside reality already forgotten.
Inside this bizarre sleeping bag size microcosm
I fall asleep afraid.
Afraid that my Moonstone womb
will abort my fragile mind,
caesarean section it,
or birth it breech.
$20 I thought I was buying a new healthy respect for
God and its universe.
$20 I bought a new healthy respect for
Moonstone sleeping bag.
Crazy the way God mysteriously works.