By: Dane Cobain

I am so high I see mountains,
the smell of crystallised shit is a foetid reminder
of the civilisation I used to remember,
the tree-lined fields of the one true childhood,
gigantic metal spiders which traipse through my dreams
and make my fingers tingle,
fireballs communicating my apocalypse
and nothing to do with normality
thru this grey, indecisive haze –
we have landed,
we communicate in clicks and whistles,
we are millenials with bank accounts
no matter what pills we swallow –
we are the generation who used Napster
to broaden minds and seek the One True Knowledge,
we scanned houses for the grey light of television
Xbox Nintendo 64, you used to
carry my meaning like a flashlight.