TRICKSTER 2.0

My spirit guide got lost
on his way to meet me,
huffed glue for visions,
and was the most flat-footed
dance partner I ever wobbled
across a prairie rug with.

He left my pockets empty
and my eyes like tea cups,
awaiting scalding intake.
He claimed to be the latest
hybrid model: Trickster 2.0
but I had my doubts.

He left my sore-toed and thirsty,
my forehead a blazing billboard
for lack of thought.
He left me folded up
like a lozenge to lay
on my own tongue…

(PS: I tasted terrible)