A cream-colored mind,
thick and languid–
in desperate need of some
deep and gritty caffeine
in order to jazz, to liven.
Perhaps that jolt is all that will be needed
to fill the brain with wondrous things
never before contained.
Maybe that will be a buzz
that will can awaken the a kaleidoscopic,
psychotropic colors and patterns
to cut through the pervasive fog.
There is a hope for visions of
shady palm trees in hues of puce
with their giant spiky elephantine trunks,
for sights of turbulent seas of wine-colored froth
that threaten to sink rafts of marzipan
carrying tiny figurines,
for images of undulating frosty-green pines,
their needles picked up in a gust of wind
and swirling in a cloud above them.
None of those pictures come;
rather, the mind is changed
to utterly without hue.
The effort and the chemical stimulant
It doesn’t matter.
It was a preposterous, frivolous goal anyway.