by Michael Heubel
Artwork, “Home” by Ashly Farley
Reeding pools of ayahuascan livery stretching out
And ripples in the water, little ringlet curls of motion
The guide that brought me here
Is long since laughing
Distant gazing on my flounders
Watches struggles in humidity
…
I’ve decided he’s a prick
[inhales]
[gazes into pools and ponds]
[gets depressed]
[exhales]
The uselessness of limbs devoid of webbing
In this setting
In a setting such as this
Is quite depressing
Thus I bitch
About my laughingstock predicament
Let’s predict my final hour
Recalling evolution leads us
Til we drop the reigns of carbon
And at last to leave the airways
I’m relaxing for the last time
“Oh god, I’m dying!”— oh wait, I don’t believe
Time passes,
a lot of it.
The spiderweb of teak and timber canopying elsewhere
It’s a distant vista visage
That my eyes refuse to focus on
And I swear I could have made it if I hadn’t been distracted
Curse those thousand tiny devils
Littered leafy on my path
I was worried I’d do something
I was worried I’d explore
I was worried I’d get worried
Splashing mire me some more
[sinks another measurement]
[subtle checks the instruments]
[the temperature is steady]
[pressure building north, northwest]