samstag morgen hangover

Oh holy holy tunnel view, you light of hope and desperation,
In the land where minutes melt 
and clocks bleed contemplation.
Saturday morn, in the afterhour's wake, 
where reality takes a vacation,
Minds frolic in a nebulous dance, 
in chemical whites jubilation.
Fluffy bunnies sing the blues, 
beneath the strobe's libation,
As rainbows spiral from the floor, 
in a twist of pigmentation.

Psychedelic daisies bloom, 
in mute conversation,
Under a sun of disco balls, 
beaming syncopation.

Macroscopic whispers 
speak in vinyl modulation,
As the aurora borealis hums
 in caffeinated dedication.

A phosphorescent platypus 
waltzes across the constellation,
In the drowsy dream of a phreaky
Saturday morning's imagination.
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