Sativa

Have I fought it lately: never say no.
I can’t quit the lady; she lies
at my side and asks why
I need her; she knows—
the ennui is on me like lice gnawing
a yawning mind; just hang me from the awning:
a tawdry line on offing my sorry life—
So there’s another pest for the red death,
and the rest you already know:
the ether, the hell of nothing,
nothing cutting like the coke rock crumbling,
and the copulating not cutting it either.
And hell I thought these would beat her,
but they only pile on.
A user as useful as Giles in the Crucible,
just more weight on something hard to kill.

– Cincinnati, OH

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Taken in Amsterdam

Motel

Carousel, around and down—
get shuffled out; I’m the only constant.
The song sounds like a constant shrug
and the visual: the sunny field we called the commons,
the dotted trees hunched in the ominous gusts.
August motel room:
cartoons playing on silent for days
while I smoke trees until my mind is quiet.
In my dreams it runs like a faucet; awake I’m exhausted—
I lost it when I tossed you aside; you thought I ran
but I stayed behind, even now still as you found me.

– Oakland, CA

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Taken in Oakland, CA