Soon enough
In 30 seconds
you will be underwater
In 40 seconds
you will be
unconscious
In 45 seconds
the light will turn green
And in 50
you’ll nearly kill your little sister.
In 55
she’ll realized what’s happened.
And in 60
she’ll panic.
“Dude… would you be okay
if we stop at dads?”
I remember that his wife is home today.
“No I just really need a drink of water.”
No man, I just don’t feel too well.
I feel….
warm.
That kind of warm that makes you… tired.
I blink.
and then…
Something’s gone wrong.
…
“Abby, is the light green?”
“Abby, are my eyes open?”
Are they
even… open?
“Are you sure?”
Everything is black.
Everything is dark.
There’s no way my eyes
aren’t closed.
I have to…
I have to…
have to…
I have to pull over this car.
I have to get us off the road.
I have to get out of the way of other cars.
Why didn’t we call 911?
Abby,
You have to
guide me…
drive me…
Get us out of the way.
Tell me when the light turns.
“is it green yet?”
“is it green now?”
In my mind other cars are already rushing by.
“Okay, it’s green”
Keep the car straight.
Keep us in a line.
I don’t think by now she realized what happened.
We need to…
Turn off.
Get off the road.
“Dude, tell me when to turn.”
Turn right.
Get off the road.
“Turn now.”
No not there.
“Turn now.”
No not there.
Nothing will compare
to the feeling of seeing things that aren’t really there.
but on some level
above the water you’re under
knowing these visions don’t really exist.
The feeling of driving on a life size blueprint.
On hallucinogens
A trip
that creates a new vision
for blinded wide open eyes.
Where you’re told to turn
Doesn’t match with this blueprint.
blue hue and white dotted lines ahead of you.
Surely it’s the blueprint
that needs followed instead.
Why turn there?
There’s no turn shown there.
3 seconds
too late
you’re told to turn.
3 seconds because
the blueprint has a lag
because I can’t lift my arms.
My whole body is…
…leaden
There’s a scream
To “Turn!”
And calm as can be
I do.
I feel myself more so than I do
perform the action myself.
Someone grab the wheel.
I feel
my fingers
knuckles
wrists
all turn right.
And the great vehicle roars in it’s
heavy
dull
sharp
Turn.
We’re turning too slow.
Too wide.
Too fast.
Too sharp.
How far into the gas pedal was my foot?
On the blueprint
We turn right.
We turn left
In real life.
Into oncoming traffic.
Into honking horns.
In the hallucination:
for going too slow.
Hearing is gone
Sight is gone
I remember a white vehicle coming at us.
At the last second.
Before I turned.
Touch on reality
Has
Slipped
Away
Something registers
“Stop!”
and somehow it registers in someway.
Nothing will compare
To the feeling of seeing things that aren’t there.
To the feeling that
Something that wasn’t you
stopped you.
I’m grey.
I’m sweating.
Hair clings to my face.
Things are blurry.
but the blueprint is gone.
Life
is returning.
“Call… Call…”
Why didn’t we call 911?
“Debbie.”
She’s closest.
I don’t know where we are.
I don’t know what I’m parked in front of.
A chain link fence.
Beside a ditch.
On the wrong side
of a two lane road.
70 seconds ago
I wish I’d known
“Don’t touch the gas pedal.”
“Don’t move this vehicle.”
3 minutes ago
I wish I’d known
“Don’t get in that truck.”
There’s a siren down the way
I hit a car.
I injured somebody.
It’s an ambulance
I’m sure.
“I’m sorry.”
Abby,
She’s on the phone.
with
…Debbie.
“No, no, there’s no color in her face.”
“No, she doesn’t look okay.”
Bladed Pens 