A Ribboned Road Trip Through Wrong
AJ Huffman


A Ribboned Road Trip Through Wrong

I am trapped in a world of thoughts.  Concept-
ions battering illusions.  Breaking words bleeding
ideals.  Misunderstandings dressed up and dancing
as godless half-man made of gingerbread.  My
muse has mistaken me for her conduit.  I am plugged
into a subconscious stream of cacophonous collapse.
My mind is seeping sleepless songs from times
ill-appropriate for my age group.  [As]Signing
my brilliance is balancing on keystone.  Cornering
itself/myself in a broken room full of black-
hearted angels and demons who like to woo
women with no names.  I guess at my own:  
Incorrect .  I assume another’s.  False[ly
accused].  I stand on misshapen ground that looks
[at me] like drowning sand in an ocean of salt.  
Salinated, I glue myself to the back of myself.
Equalized:  [I am] a two-headed sloth-paced angel.
Fluttering .  I am fading.  (Like a butterfly on a bullet.)  Beyond
the background.  [Offered as]
Imagine.