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The Corroboree


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Now simmer down ...

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Yeah, well, that was the plan. 

I'd been gathering plant material
over the past few months, keeping a few
choice segments aside, darkening, ripening. 

Instant Pot to the rescue.
My one solitary home-grown lime.
On a whim, interstate travel impending, ...

skip to the bit where I simmer on down

One thing led to another.

Troubleshootin' an integrated amp,

poor man's silicone hifi

my one last shot ... backfired. 

All the meanwhile I'd been roiling down, 

having shunted to Aldi cauldron. 

What's that acrid smell? No, not the amp ...

rather, a fusion of enamelware and medicine

melded together, burnt beyond recognition
-- self-inquire:

scrape that up, encapsulate? 

weirdest of all, I levitate

above pungent, black blistering mire



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Shouldn't this be in Creativity...? :)

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Been there done that

always feels the same

like you shoulda, coulda, woulda, and then yet again shoulda known better, but still..

set the alarm next time you tells yourself, only to do it again the very next day..

sometimes it is simply not meant to be, the time is not right, let it go.

how bad could it be though?

Give it a go, unless that first taste tells you no, but tastes can be deceiving

force it down, only an hour or so of total stomach annihilation, then bliss, or death

either would be welcome after that

but then Im not sure what you’re on about, so I could just be making sense of words that don’t, like most seem to..

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