Kevin Ridgeway

Acid Flashback

Blue-tinted glasses
checkered pants
and a t-shirt
screaming opium haze
were the components
of my drug-induced
costume,

my cartoon eyes
bulging out of their
sockets,
the walls a night gallery
of distorted faces
cracking the paint
with their smiles

I stand staring at
my reflection in
the mirror,
my own face
slowly melting
like butter on
a toasted skull,

I adjust my glasses
and begin
swimming through
the molasses air
breathing slowly
and pop corn snaps
of gibberish words
drool out the ends
of my quivering mouth

I took too much,
they
tell me
and as they put me to
bed I watch the posters
of dead rock stars
revive themselves
from the great beyond
singing strange songs
I’ve never heard before
and never will again

Kevin Ridgeway is a writer from Southern California, where he resides in a shady bungalow with his girlfriend and their one-eyed cat.  Recent work has appeared in CARNIVAL, Gutter Eloquence Magazine, Black-Listed Magazine and Bank Heavy Press:  Robo-Book.  His chapbook of poetry, Burn through Today, is now available from Flutter Press.