Fresh Red.

Stomach turned into battery acid.
I melted metal in it's pit.
Hissed and spit.
Maybe others sang.
Moved like a robot.
Like an animal.
Like the devil.
Hit a pitch so high only dogs heard it.
Howled back that they didn't know what I meant.
Can you repeat it?
One more time maybe?
Got lost in the woods or a jungle or a forest.
But it wasn't very wet.
Feet got stuck in quicksand.
Rolled over on my belly.
Beetles walked out over it.
Hovering on top without sinking in.
They said it was their feet.
Spread like plates or leaves.
Held them up on top.
Wrote eight bars of music, only knew 4/4.
Easiest thing to rhyme to, rhyme in, write on.
Easy quarter notes kept my honest.
Everyone else in the bar lied.
Drained clear cups.
Everything smelled like limes.

And when I woke up, my stomach settled.

6/18/2017
Riley Welch