Pine sap pipe

In the deep spiked pine forests On a walk you forgot you took Snow up your knees Twenty feet away An enormous old house Not abandoned, smoke from the chimney Large windows, dark wood walls A forest castle here for you  To explore perhaps Eyes flash pink with sun light  Through the unlocked door  In the main hall Taste the dust  Ancient carvings everywhere A cough from upstairs There by the broom closet With chemical smells and an open door There seems a staircase goes down Let’s go down there All kinds of paths and passes  Down in the basement  A maze of wooden tunnels  Full of paintings and the smell of cigar smoke Down tunnel 783 More carvings  Ink drawings on the wall A kind of sign language  It must be Mouse, circle, person I know that mark  Knock on the mark Door opens A boy with long hair Fur clothes Pipe in his mouth Spear in hand  “What took you so long? Come in.” Enter a wooden cave A dozen people here Lying on pillows  Smoke clouds and smoke rings Hookahs and pipes and rolls of every kind  The ceiling made of fog Lanterns and blankets on mystic carpets  A smell of lotus flower and incense  “You come for old man?” A cleaning woman asks White blonde hair Short, with tanned skin, very friendly You don’t know where you are “Oh, well what your name?” You don’t remember “Let me help you Mister Name.  I am Zophia.” A handshake of cold purple water  Mrs. Zophia, how long have you been here “More than most, I’m the only one the old man trust.” “But she’s with us.” Pipe smoking boy says He smiles “She helps us, she’s the best of us takers.”  “But I no take anything.” She says. “I just help.” Very confusing “Take this.” A frog shaped pipe Full of golden sap burning Take a deep puff in Give your sawed legs to Zophia She’ll fix them while you float You’ll need your arms though To sway the sacred dance The stars orbiting the earth Twinkling like a bone wind chime  The rain makes feathers on your skin The moon rumbles as it beats you with sticks The eyes of a thousand fish open around you Your spine bent like a jackets zipper  The lemon smell of lakes and kayaks Brought to the land of cushions Tangling with the pillow people Zophia returns your legs And chews a honeycomb The sugar beetles vengeful but quiet Soon she enters the cushioned land Falling like a comet to her pillow The piped boy standing strong His shoulders straight against the door His spear in his hand A jealous god takes his eraser  And tries to scratch away the work of man But Zophia and I cooked and ate his tongue Into the room of the two tea sisters They’ll give you stones for luck And you’ll wonder why you weren’t lucky enough  Their cats pawing at your exposed muscles Their dogs eating your bones Their parrots pecking your heart and lungs In a near dead heap on a leaf floor  Thankfully the flower rabbit takes pity With you revived Zophia with a tea pot Shave the tea ones bald And give them to the river god And now the god is pleased  His smile like a new silver ring So bury yourself in the garden with peace Wait until the ants come They’ll sting but they’ll never bite Softly the smell of oranges approach  An earthquake leads into the electric river Take the dragon boat of the blue fairy Down the waves of forgotten seas Zophia taking the sail rope You paddling through the rocks Past the toothed islands and coconut sharks  Strawberry ice cream in porcelain and string A mammoth tusk perfect for sunglasses  Just as grass is to be dried A march with roses back under ground Down to the land of pillows To make another adventure With eyes tired of staying open Before the sap will smoke out your nose And puff into the ceiling