Welcome to a world of delirious angels and talking monkeys. A planet of old string. An 'ouch' with the cosmos sunbathing inside. A few strands of the last spare purple.
Welcome to a mind fixed with rounded corners and soggy bread. A mind jammed like a finger in a sock drawer. That's sticky and sickly-sweet. And that comes complete with used words and borrowed starshine.
Go on, if you dare, have a good sniff around. Sample the alien delicacies displayed. Abandon yourself in our colourful cave. Stir your coffee with the poet's finger.
Please find below a llama laughing. Just follow the crumbs, the trail of shattered seashells. Travel freely into the storm of storms. Dear reader: Come in, you're way out there.