My Drinking Dreams

I tried to blow up pigeons with bicarbonate potions.
I built infernos in dense forests of fern civilisations,
rafted pollution on polystyrene blocks,
fought in streets run by big brothers,
I stole from the church and
scrawled abuse on their walls,
made ramps to fly high
smoked joints to fly higher,
tasted girls under bridges,
threw false parties
faked ID,
drank dreams under lamposts,
ran from the police,
forgot the time all the time
inside a youthful peace.
And you were all there.
We were all there.