Choking on Slime

My destination is detoured,

men in frocks wave me off.

"You can't come through here," they say,

But I must.

Their hands are covered

in a mucas-sick green,

brushes dipped in the pail and drops

drip down the wall.

The world is tipped on its head,

Up is down and down is up.

A circus clown demands I climb,

but the wall laughs it off.

Try to grasp the snot-slick wall,

stick my fingers in gaps, but

spiders burst forth

And I scream in gasps.

My fingers on lace curtains,

a cat clawing nails,

dragging down, dragging down,

down until.

The earth is driving and obviously drunk -

Up is down and down is up.

A smile cracks through the paint,

but where's the tool that cut it?

Globes of green paint Slick my throat,

Climbing up and out,

gagging my mouth,

with the speed of a sad slug.

Not until the drops landed

with a slosh and a grunt

did I realize I was full,

full of naught.

Why am I trust with the keys?

Up is down and down is up.

All I desire is to run

these sheets of metal into brick.