An Ode to McKenna
Under the brilliant stars
in the middle of an open
field
all alone
pondering existence
like some existential psych
class
never bothered to attend
or some philosophy exam
never cared to be graded on.
Neither, though, could
prepare
for what happens next –
these types of close
encounters
aren’t graded on a curve.
Red and green track lights
open wide to flood the area,
spraying their rays,
searching, seeking…something.
Sweet Holy Jesus!
Was the Revelation real after
all?
Is the chariot coming
to take us all to Heaven?
Fat chance, sucker –
no such luck on this Winter’s
eve.
Slack jawed, mouth agape,
staring
at the beast of a machine
that is taking its precious
time
to descend upon the scene.
Hovering above the grass,
a gate of incandescent energy
particles
drips down like a waterfall,
somehow becoming corporeal in
the process.
Who in the hell will ever
believe
that the boy who always cried
wolf
has finally seen a genuine
miracle?
Or is it a death sentence
being issued by some strange
denizens
from a far flung planet?
Answers will come soon enough
it seems
as little brain-like beings
with chicken wings flapping
come hopping down the bridge,
cluck-cluck-clucking
in some twisted tongue
not understood at all.
Where’s the damned space age
device
they pop on the ear
so all languages are
instantly translated?
Where’s the Type-1 greeting
that such an important
meeting
between two civilizations is
befitting of?
Not here, Bubba.
Not on this strange night.
The chicken brain
something-or-others
circle around and start
dancing
in some type of weird voodoo
ritual.
A hallucinatory rhythm
pops open the pineal gland,
expanding consciousness
down to a fine point
microcosm of reality.
One tiny dot from which all
creation explodes.
Geometric patterns pulsate in
the crisp air.
Shapes and sounds forming out
of the nothingness.
Little elves and goblin
creatures
jibber-jabber in bizarre
musical tones,
beyond the realm of simple
consonants and vowels,
which are intuitively felt
and understood
on some instinctive primal
channel.
Wavelength frequency
vibrations of chaos
coalesce cohesively into an
ordered symmetry
of crystallized mandala Zen
reverberations.
Body shock and mind fuck.
So this is how creation began?
This is what the Big Bang
felt like?
Life’s path, purpose and
meaning all bubble up
to the surface level in an
A-ha moment.
Musical notes streamlining
from out the
jellylike brains of the
far-out creatures of
wherever, whatever, however…
Questions are meaningless in
the shakedown
as everything synthesizes to
make perfect sense
for a split-second flash of
raw awesome perfection,
then, poof, gone, nowhere,
nothing…
Eyes pop open, rain is
drizzling from the clouds above.
No new friends anywhere to be
seen.
Fuck, was it all just a
dream?
Nah, it couldn’t be,
so it must have been
that second puff of DMT.
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