Stoned Song

Posted: January 12, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

purple

Henry ran out of whisky and switched to weed

An ounce bought from a slightly dodgy fellow poet

Henry’s mate, Captain Conehead, came over for a smoke

“Choppety Choppety Captain Conehead” said Henry

Captain Conehead chopped up a couple of buds with some white ox

Stinky buds, purple nurple, the ultimate high in the sky

 

Henry packed his pipe, lit and inhaled

A warm fuzzy numbness descended on his brain

Everything was funkier, more interesting, more amazing

He put on the Beatles and started to sink into his chair

This is a most excellent day Captain Conehead he said

For all Henry’s paranoia and raving insanity was resolved with a few cones

And for once, he didn’t feel alone

 

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