Tag Archives: cannabis

Dicks & drugs

You can have
a hard dick
or a slurred tongue
but you can’t have both

Or hey what do I know
maybe you can
I knew a dealer
in New York
who had little blue pills

There’s actually something
I’ve never done
his neighbor told me
it fucked with his head
they both looked at each other
nodded & agreed

He had a couple pit bulls
they were lounging beside him
with their tongues out
as he smiled reminiscing
the fond moment
he was fucking this chick
& put her head thru a wall
verbatim

I could write tragedies
about some that I’ve met
back before there was Weedmaps
when gangster wannabe’s
stood between me
& some moldy catpiss that
hardly took the edge off

But I won’t—

A cock is not just
for playful pummeling & painting
piss murals on everything
a cock is like a barometer
a cock gives you a choice

                 Someday I predict
                 I won’t care as much
                 if I make it another thirty years
                 come smoke me out with sap
                 on the side of the trail
                 on a sunny day
I’ll have had so many
thousands of deafening orgasms
by then—tens of thousands—
it will all seem like one
about to happen

                   







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Gold country

Roll a joint
break it down
between these itchy fingers
feels so sticky
so real
set it down
forget about it
there’s this scratching post
at the top of my head
the smell
of undoing the knots escapes
the static screams
behind the songs
the tubes they used
glowing darkly upside down
almost hidden, untouched
clean of oil
the tremolo, the springs,
the thin twang of a fender
warbles atomic geometry
like markers
upstroked
left to hang
to sustain
twenty minutes in the pot
set a timer to forget
let it cool until it’s tepid
this exact same thing
every ten days
triple digits out there
the wall is breathing 
I got EMA on the box
she makes me feel
I’m not sweating anymore
I was burning in the sun
hollowing them out this morn’
their insides like to breathe
their outsides need the light
& who wants larfy schwag
snow lotus brings the frost
out of skyhigh spears
super silver haze
breathes in the breeze
coming down
off the Sierra’s
down
this iron dusted gulch I dwell
they dance
this time of year
the cats are passed out
on the deck
a shadow of a vulture
scans the dusty
ground pops
with crickets
a mockingbird posts up
on a dead ponderosa
after a flash of his bomber wings
I wipe the webs off
on these cutoff shorts
the bees savor every drop
of water they can find
a woodpecker knocks
it’s beak for some bugs
the only other sounds
are far off
muted by currents
the forest at the top
of the hill
the fox den
overlooking the house
the bend
in the trunk of the pine tree
I love watching
summer burn
our souls away
until there’s nothing left
but rain
but hope
but love
to find it’s way
thru the mud & snow
& acid trips
again





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Jermz

I’m not entirely sure what compelled us

to joust with our bodies that one day

we made fried rice with psilocybe cubensis

except we didn’t really cook them

I was gagging it down with a fork

I found them in a ranchers cow field

behind the Publix despite a cop parked right at

the exit & seeing him riding a tractor that time

it was weird driving around your older brothers

upscale neighborhood near downtown St. Pete

listening to Omar in the spaceship

flipping a bitch at the sight

of a construction zone—fuck that

skeleton warriors wearing metal armor

with swords began to charge at me

from the shadows of a concrete wall

getting kicked out of a parking garage

smoking a joint no longer able to see them

typical banyan tree weather—hot

humid & sweating, so many little fruit flies

ended their lives with their wings stuck

to my face but not yours—I figured

it was because you’re Cuban

by the long stretch of thick grass

in the bayside park with everyone else

We pumped our mushroom legs thru it

on our bikes full speed toward each other

unyielding playing chicken faster—

faster until we were right about to collide

two dudes over six feet tall careening

with the craziest grins you’d ever seen

our bikes crashed, tangled, your front tire

taco’d & we met midair somewhere around our chests

with an audible exhalation of air

like we knocked the wind out of each other

& went flying toward the ground laughing—

laughing as hard as we possibly could

hysterical & insane dying there in the grass

by death beach with a water bottle

& clouds in the sky rotating color

swirling what—your girlfriend from like

thirty miles away appeared out of nowhere

said she saw us sitting there driving by

we didn’t even know what to do at that point

you left to go hide inside of clothesracks

at a mall with her—I got in my car & drove it

like a squishy pancake over the sunshine skyway

I don’t even know how I did it

cars were shrinking, expanding, & shifting

rapidly between the wiggling lanes all around me

I stayed between them somehow no matter what

I listened to dream sequence & sensory decay II

I told myself if I ever make it

to Anna Maria island I don’t know what I’ll do

it took me an hour but I made it just in time

to walk thru the white sand to the concrete

dock all the way to the end with no one

around just to watch the pastel sky dance

for me like kites being flown from way out

on the ocean with stars turning on like streetlights

the soft sloshing of the sea

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The things I do

There’s a reason
why I make
my echinacea
& elderberry tea
after dark

The plants feel nice
inside me extracted
the honey of course
that’s a give in

The warmth is soothing
even in the summertime
it makes me want to
smoke more hash

But no it’s neither those
nor the taste
nor the ritual of making it
just right each time

It’s not even the subtle
apothecary & mushy berry smell
it wafts in my face as I play
strange tunes while I wait

I can use the cuff of my sleeve
from my hoody to suppress
the strings in these spots
make it cry like a broken sitar

So it isn’t that either
nor is it the way they strengthen
our defense against sickness
infection & fuckery
& since we’re running out
of things it could be
I’m sure you must be guessing

It’s a large blue mug
too big to be drinking
before going to sleep
which makes it the perfect size

I’ll wake up in the middle of the neon
night with the need to take the hugest
piss I’ll be god damn amazed by it all
but more importantly I’ll remember

The subtle details saturated
by the side effects of my redeye
where I was
what was happening
I would have forgot
all about what
that feels like

I’ll close my eyes & light
that little fire
I’ll taste it
melting into the bed
like marshmallow & leather
blueberries & pine





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Skyline

   

                        Come on

                                                               let’s go

            we’re going

                                           to Skyline

      way up windy

                                                  Highway 9

             the windows down

                            thru the redwoods

                  to the ridge

                               just to see all

          the sodium lamps blink

                                             from miles away

    on one side of the street

                                                 maybe the ocean

   at the end of the forest


                                                    or a sea of clouds

  on the other side

                                                where I got a djembe

 to bounce off a distant mountain

                                   & cried like quiet fireworks

 on the fourth of July

                              I’d eat some rootbark

    watch the lunar eclipse 

                            on a blanket

                smoke bowls

                         adjust aperture settings

                         until sunrise 

                they never used

                                       to bother us

           we got lost back there

                              ran jeanslapping & ticklegged

         on one occasion too

                                    all the way down the hillside

  like flatlander baffoons

                                what if this small community

never broke apart like I did

                              who left still rides the 9

  way up windy Skyline

                       the other way to castle rock

         or the old trail that led up

                 to the boulders on the top 

                         of the mountain overlooking

          San José, Los Gatos, Saratoga

                                 Campbell, Milpitas, & the bay

     they shut it down 

                             because of spotted horned owls

  just a gate you had to hop

                    probably more an excuse for the art 

& other forms of debauchery

                          we’d perform like a sacred ritual

  until sunset getting so fucking high

                                   we couldn’t even figure out

           the local kids took a screwdriver

                                        to the tires on the car

                          it had been dark a while

                          before the tow truck driver came

                                  said he grew up driving the 9

                     while we went over waves full speed

                      tears of sparks cried from the mirror

             I had to wonder if you were a fan 

                     of sucking the glass dick

                                 one night we were out there

         & the weirdest thing happened

                 we stayed until sunset smoking blunts

    the shadow of the mountain 

                           crept it’s way over the blinking 

streetlights turning on down there

                                    we could hear a television

    on loud from hella far away

                                   way way out over yonder

                  but it wasn’t actually

                                 we listened closely

                      we couldn’t believe it

                                 people were playing 

                                 the hokey pokey

                      somewhere down the mountain

            where our laughter must have roared

       echoed through the thick forest

                                                       we were above

  though the sounds grew louder

                                             the people were slowly 

getting closer

                               that’s when it dawned upon us

  it was an old recording

                                                maybe from the 50’s

     looping over & over

                                 from a small raspy speaker 

                coming up the trail beneath us—

         You put your head in

   You put your head out

          You put your head in

                           & you bang it all about

                                         —I wanted to stay

                           one of the girls booked it

                                     we all took off like a mob 

                                  into the dark forest

                                  the only flashlight we had

                                      started strobing 

                           then totally died

                                         like the beginning

                     of a horror movie

                                                    left open ended

          there were these tunnels

                                      you’d have to crawl under 

      somehow forged thru manzinita

                                     by wildcats & rock climbers

  we’d get on our hands & knees

                                          with backpacks & the acid 

already fully metabolized

                                                  waiting for the effects

  that would hit us on

                                                      the sandstone rock

    overlooking thirty miles

                     of the Santa Cruz mountain range

             a single oak tree growing up shading

                                                      like a symbol

                        bowls & shelves formed

                            into it with lichens at the surface

                                        barefoot in the sun

                                        back when pipes 

                             still had personalities

                                             we’d speak in paradox

                       or not at all

                           gaze out over the whole forest

               dancing & the pastel mandalasky

                                     rippling forever & ever 

        we got to see it with our own eyes

                                     & yeah we were a little late

      getting back to the cars

                                                  everyone was gone

  except a ranger with his light

                        shining in our dilated faces

most of us still carrying our shoes

            after soaking our feet in the water

                          I had to talk my way 

  out of a ticket I was so sorry

                    for wasting their time

    we didn’t know how long

             it would take to get back here

             we were so far out there

       enjoying the park

who was it that put on

     Stevie Ray Vaughn 

                 I couldn’t handle it

I had to drive back home

                        down the windy 9 in the dark

   You need to turn this shit off

                               There are snakes in his throat




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Side effects

The whole house fucking reeks
no—I bet the entire
mountainside knows
today is harvest
like if a skunky cheesecake
grew on a plant
breathed it’s spirits
into the sky
one stalk at a time
the black hash melts
on my hands into my skin
my blood & bones
some of it was wiped away
with the honey off
my feral fingers at lunch
I feel like passing out
but I’ll write this first
it’s sticky then it’s smooth
I could roll up a ball
and smoke it, I’d rather
lay around and dream
with a body pillow
on both sides sprawled by a fan
while the cicadas light up
like fireworks—like that
thing that happens inside of me
sometimes you just gotta
wait some more
while the leaves wither
the mind wanders
quiet solitude
half way to heaven
I’ll wake up
rock hard and throbbing
knowing you’re out there




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Las siestas

Somehow                                             I always end
                                              up here by the water
 with dirty feet
  it flashes back
                                          this other world
                                         we’re in now
looks like a dream
     it’s so consistent
                                                I know
                                                 so meet me by the lake
 somehow with dirty feet
flashback to the songbirds
                                           
     in the forest I’m awake
                                                but I was there again
           by the water
      with dirty feet
                                                     dirty toenails
                                                         I live alone
        during the day
               I’m not alone
                                                       by the lake
                                                I’ll pick the lighter up
  with my toes
I’ll take the clover honey
                                               from the cupboard
                                              I’ll keep it on the counter
      ’til it’s gone
 I’ll smoke a joint
                                               outside in the shade
                                                   it used to seem
so much more random
             than this leaking
                                                locality from both sides
                                                              what am I



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