We’d take three pulls and pass the joint to our immediate left
Sometimes there would be more than one joint doing the circle
and you’d suddenly find yourself holding two, a third being rolled
on the King Crimson cover with the open mouth. The clever thing
would have been to pass the extra joint across, but you were already
too stoned to think of that, so you’d pass the extra onward more
quickly and hoped it made some distance before you’d finished
with its simulacrum. There’s a word you don’t often encounter
in a circle of stoned hippies, the third joint just lit, and a fourth
in the offing
Truck Stop Girl and Brides of Jesus (interchangeable)
Snakes on Everything
Later, I’ll swallow a tab of Acid that will kick in to coincide
with the sunset, red and purple, streaky, special. A murmuration
of starlings, rising twisting falling. But this group is about
cannabis, marijuana, the etiquette of sharing, assuming that
the music playing was from the record cover we were using
for rolling, even if it wasn’t. It’s where I first heard Little Feat
I knew The Doors already
.
Steven Taylor
.
Very atmospheric poem. Thoroughly enjoyed it.
Comment by Angie Paula Mary Birtill on 6 June, 2024 at 9:34 am