A High

by Neave Scott

Just
               sort of
                                    floating.

Letting everything become a carousel.
It comes in waves.

It runs to the moon
of the wiretrap nervous system and nudges you into a
black hole.
I’m getting outta space.

Tumbling around kleen christian canvases. Cavernous.
Sit back, relax.

Watch the world whorl.
Big
Blue
Stereopticon.