do not disturb
Running through lost-corridors, I search
for the exit door. Where is the exit door?
I am Mario in a pipe maze. An intricate network
of colorful mice swarming seditiously around me.
I am looking for a hatch, even, a ledge will do.
I need to jump away, I need to catch my breath, Mario,
lost in a pipe maze.
Some send me swirling towards deserted corners,
where dark-rooms reside in the myst of no-end deserts.
(I’m uttering golden sand, without gold’s luster)—I dwell,
in those corners; I dwell until a new pipe sucks me up and spits me out;
twelve levels down, maybe, fourteen levels up,
I don’t have the time to count; I don’t have the will to label:
I have no map; I am Mario, lost in a pipe maze,
sometimes,
i shrink, i explore magic-mushrooms, but my spirit refuses to fly,
when i shrink, i’m a fly without wings, staring at the dripping liquid luster of the world,
more colorful than monet-art; but i’m behind a netted-screen, a pipe maze,
the holes, the wretched holes, too small too buzz my way through,
so what do i do?
i try ‘n’ oOzZ my way through; i vie to get a leg out, to touch,
to taste, to feel a bit of color—not even a pure scent?
is there no door out of this hyper-real schemata! please,
please tell me before i go into another barren room, shut the door,
and put my sign up, forever,