It’s 3am. Everything is drenched in sweat and smoke and salt water. If nothing else, electing to attend a counterculture-infatuated college in Florida has helped me rekindle my adoration for the macabre swamp-psychadelia of Lousianna’s Acid Bath…
A creature made of sunshine,
her eyes were like the sky.
Rabbit howls like something old as we twitch to her lullaby.
The scalpel shines in God’s sunshine,
the street lights whisper pain,
and down here near the poison stream our god has gone insane…
Listen: Scream of the Butterfly
