Ode to Cotton Mouth
For since I do not have you,
I must remember best I can.
The days like this past Monday,
When a spliff was in my hand.
I found myself searching
For that feeling in my mouth,
The one that made saliva smack,
And had me heading south.
Down to the circle K of course
Since water could not cure,
And gum could not be found,
Up the isle I saw, obscured:
Gatorade—amongst the chips and chocolate
I wandered through the maze,
Oh, Cottonmouth, you waited so patiently,
In that silly haze.
No comments:
Post a Comment