Pickles and lovely sauce

I want this in my wardrobe

Of flavors and experiences

Abundant and washing over me

In waves of isolation

Left alone in my wonders

Wonders of icicles and beautiful fields

Smoke rising to the music

Sweating the perfume

Of a day spent pondering

All again the cycle

Of formations swimming

Throughout the mazes of consciousness

And then before me

Lies a poem, a song, a picture in color

I always have you on the fringes

Creating with me with your patience

Like a circus ride

The man with the mask

That only the dogs can see through

On my bicycle, swerving

Around candy corn and mustard

On the wings of the pink dragon

Drinking blue lemonade

And in my sack with my paints

A hotdog pancake