The Chicken See's!
The chicken sees the cyclone that’s raging in my mind and speaks in the voice of chickenish wisdom to my empty and unenlightened mind that doesn’t see that the chicken sees it all. The feathers of reality fly plucked by a multifingered octopus tentacle-cluster tearing each downy feather from the naked pink chicken carcass and in the liquid, boiling soup pot of chickenseeingness my mind was shattered like a pane of glass with a sledgehammer of silver in a Lord Of the Rings dream with Elrond leading the elves across the Sundering Sea to where the Starship Enterprise beams James T Kirk down for some Federation of Planets imperialism on the pointy-eared natives who fly into fragments and buzz around the naked teats and flaccid dongs...