Where Words End, Drugs Take Over

Fungal ungulates vibrate at ninety one hundred feet.

Once condemned to pale beneath the shadows of the iconified American Dream

They check out and ascend the mountains that cropped the horizon before Man and his steely Pagodas

Their raw, tender feet now hoofed and strong.

The franchise to existence is accessed through each forgotten word and every dilated nano-second.

This is the experienced reality - affirmed in the sensual, and celebrated in the primal.

All the artifice of ignorance and self-imposed doubt are washed in the entheogenic shower

And a clarity is birthed in the corpse of cold external calculus.

They, the ungulate, are the transcendent of the post-lingual, transcendent of the pre-causal, transcedent of the will to truth!

In the finitude of the temporal infinite no tears are shed over the contradictions of the universe.

Certainty manifests as a passion in the soul driving the ungulate towards the world

To which the Psilocin anchors them.