Poem: Flashback - The First Time I Took Acid

A mate played prop games with a bag of oranges for what felt like hours. And we were in stitches,

improv humour ripped us apart and we took turns trying to operate on each other – only one of us

at a time capable of even trying to grasp the thread. We listened to the empty room thrum with

glistening options. I counted the holes in my walls later, when we a…