When the moon is in the trees

Acidman rises like the moon in the trees and pens blogger
poetry:

Did you ever see a DOZEN of those hairless salamanders in the North Carolina mountains--- up there where those prehistoric and skinless LIZARDS make a noise like a stameding herd of wild hogs when they run like lemmings into your CAMPFIRE AT NIGHT???? When the fucking MOON is in the trees?

When you didn't have to POKE them into the flames with your fire-stick as you screamed like a girl, and while your drunken buddies just kept snoring and left you to fend for yourself?? When those ick! ick! ick! things ran right across your farking LEG, and you pissed a stain in your pants, and the damn things KEPT RUNNING right into the fire? Where they curled up and resembled burnt popcorn?

Huh? Remember how stoned you were? And how you dragged a burnt lizard on a stick out of the fire, studied it for a moment, SNIFFED IT and ATE IT???? Just to see what it TASTED LIKE??? To see if you COULD??

When you follow the moon, you can do some crazy shit.



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