Weed Green Reefer Mary Jane Wacky Tobaccy Bubonic chronic, the ganja Left-handed cigs, Devil’s lettuce This, my dear readers, is golden-green Fibonacci poetry on marijuana And for what it is …
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Weed Green Reefer Mary Jane Wacky Tobaccy Bubonic chronic, the ganja Left-handed cigs, Devil’s lettuce This, my dear readers, is golden-green Fibonacci poetry on marijuana And for what it is …
cycles, circles, all together center star splashes outward colors carnal, bright and muted twisting, intricate honeysuckle-vine undulant waves of writhing, rolling stripes and strings tangled snakes of varying hues, hieroglyphics …
There is a time to grieve.. and there is a time for blossom There is a time to die.. so you can be reborn There is a time to lose.. …
I was born from the womb of time. Stars clotted and splashed, staining the bedsheets with ruby moonbeams. Her tears of pain baptised me with joy. They talk of the …
I’ve befriended the strange man that at night sits on the end of my bed when I sleep. I used to think that he wore death as a cape, but …
Children I am terrified of children especially the pudgy ones who waddle through life eating hot dogs, toast, and glue, neglecting their mother tongue in favor of Buzzfeed and Spongebob. …
As the river cascades into darkness, Canyons long abandoned begin to crumble, Dust scatters towards oblivion, And the earth decays, The last remnants of life Drift away in the breeze. …
The orchard smells green and swollen. White apple blossoms scatter in the dirt, sown like someone’s sin lost and bloomed too soon. Silence bathes the canaries in tangerine light, casts …