sinks me into dream-
like reverie.
Silver winding tunnel,
spiraling grooves
like a screw—perhaps a projection
of my resolve to find what needs be found.

I am certain it isn’t here,
not in this semi-conscious depth.
Freq A failed despite minimal disruption
to the trance state.
Core brain electrical signals
must veer from somnolent conditions.

Fatal Interference at this focus.
Pursue deeper dive.

Trance attained
with mild psychoactives
via IV
drip ... drip ... drip
cavernous song, slow
steady breath.

Jolt of euphoria. A strange voice.

Seven days in meditation.
Hampered circulation in lower extremities.
Nausea. Self-imposed hunger
incites powerful cravings.

Sweet liquids start to pour out of
my containment walls. Beside me
the liquor hardens into fragrant planets.
Miracle?

Something is thwarting me,
but I persevere.

The strange voice speaks
in the language of my sympathetic system,

Fatal interference.

White noise permeates.

I attempt the method of the First Flesh,
prayer: Show yourself, I beseech you.

A glimpse of the speaker strikes
terror into my central furnace,
blood-fuel presses into core brain—
three faces on one skull,
my face is its faces
in anger, in joy and in sorrow;
sculpted arms and hands, legs and feet
in pairs of three, phalanged like mine
but lustrous. It has no phallus, no yoni.

I bargain: You are many, but I am one.

Shame weighs me down. But why must I
be humbled?
I retort: You made me in your image, but only in part.
This is evil.

Long silence ensues.

Hunger takes over. Fatal interference.

Mastication—semi-conscious action.
Disappointment crushes my will.
I resign myself to failure.

A vision.