Khao San Road

Spinning in psilocybin, flowering on
the toadstool’s head, here is the future
you were always meant to share

in polysyllabic silence, the sun flutters out
the day’s wings tattooed to traveller’s backs
illuminating some kind of lost paradise

the best and worst elements of a culture
thrown at gold dipped temples, the monks
step down the psychedelic streets in orange

and utter despair, from Gunga Din to anywhere
the prayers the east rise to meet their grave
somewhere in an all night rave, Thailand, BKK

on the road that every traveller knows, ashamed
to find counter-commercialism commercialised, amazed
by the floral design on the fake Nikes, this duality

beats in the heart of all human beasts, undressed
until signs
leads to higher places

Charlie Baylis
Illustration Nick Victor