Thursday, September 10, 2009

I was joking with my friend the other day
‘bout smoking stale tea, how tea was a name
for pot ‘way back, beatniks drinking wine and smoking’ tea.
Giving Bourbon as a cure for cowlick, whining,
or to counteract a sugar buzz; this is okay.
But joke about smoking’ a little Gange, some Buddha,
or Humboldt County homegrown and Holy Shit!
Smack me upside the head with a fry pan!
Didn’t matter her and I burned one together.
Ain’t my fault her father called and ruined her buzz.
I guess respectability will do that to ya.
And me, old reprobate, part hippy and part biker,
part stoned seer/prophet/poet
still willing to let my freak flag fly.

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