I hallucinate at half past eight
With geometric patterns that fascinate.
I am blinded to the rest of the world,
Can’t see past the whiskers on my face.
I asked my eye doctor, what did he think?
He said I perceived an ocular migraine.
There’s not much that is known about it.
Nothing much can be done about it.
So I sit back and enjoy the show
Full of primary colors and triangles
Floating in the air encased in ribbons,
Waving at me as if they are laughing.
They usually last twenty minutes or so
I’m just glad I am not driving
When the hallucinations start arriving.