Psychedelic ramblings of thought frogs croaking,
choking on the elegant chorus of the midnight orchestra.
Deep in the velvet evening the tired forest sheds rubber skin,
large, wooly mammals begin to prowl,
on the scent of promised vegetables,
senses in tune with seething earth,
forever in search for compass needle tomatoes.

Breathing heavy ecstasy,
settles the soft haze of twilight escaping,
the fireflies born in fear of chasing jars,
and children in oversized raincoats
placing fishbowl televisions on display
for insectivore menus hidden in the steam.

Aardvarks rub elbows with politician carousels,
twirling gobs of armpit currency,
their peculating intentions staining sharpened teeth,
and the children laugh at the aardvark’s gullibility,
the frogs choke and croak,
and the mystery ebbs back into the edificial surroundings.