Clothes as mushroom mindtrip–
spider silk covers a body.
A wallpaper of lava lamp
transformations – decorate the house
however you see fit. Clown pants. Squirting
roses. Tuxedo coated in gelatin. All art is
political, or none of it. This statement launches
to the topmost window of a towering bank
and bounces deep into the trenches
of my thin, leatherworn wallet.
(originally published in Gingerbread Ritual Literary Journal, Winter 2021)