Trippy Enough?

This was originally not planned to be a posted piece, but was a response to a notes tag for a trippy poem using the last line of another as my first.

I wasn't sure if it hit the brief or was just a messy mix of thoughts, hence the title.

I'll leave it as a note in case anyone wants to continue on from my last line, but I was frustrated by my inability to space and format it properly in notes, and how messy it looked, so here we are.

Thanks to A Writer’s Voice for the original nomination and the first line.

To come back,
but where from?
I'm not sure where I am
or how I got here.

A place where I walk on concrete
that seems to stick to my feet
like bubblegum, with each step.
The texture like worn hotel carpet.

Twilight sky suddenly turns orange,
a loud bang.
A troop of monkeys fall from the sky
and perform a gymnastic display.

Tired, they head to the nearest bar.
I might join them, 
but decide to pass, having looked in
to see penguins performing burlesque.

Why do my fingers keep tingling?
In fact all of me does.
I'm sweating and panicked.
Is this a cardiac event?

My mind drifts away from
potential heart failure as
Rumplestiltskin walks by,
pushing a cake in a wheelbarrow.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY
he shouts to me, though
mine is several months away.
He takes a knife, hacks at cake.

He proffers a slice,
I reluctantly accept.
It explodes with a release of balloons
which appear to be heads.

They speak as they float,
an orange balloon babbling
that it's the biggest, floatiest
most powerful balloon ever.

The balloons simultaneously burst
releasing a substance which
is fluorescent in colour
but smells faintly of semen.

I grab my phone, vaguely thinking
I should try and make a poem
or something like it from this
although as I do so, it vibrates madly.

A message on the screen says
'you have reached your destination'.
I look up and indeed I have.
Then I walk inside the McDonalds.

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