It's Amazing, what Hell
of a good poem
you can push out
with a little hemp,
a little hope,
a little wine,
a little optimism,
a little chakra music,
a lot of voodoo,
and a lot of incense
to piss off your sensitive-smelling
husband, can do.
Throw some Tarot cards
into the mix,
and you've got
a damn good poem.
I am Queen
of my own
pentacles,
after all.
This is a damn good poem,
or something funny,
to read tomorrow,
in the break room.
(However, tomorrow
is Sunday, I'll cringe about it
on Monday.)
It might be better
than the stories
I told "at band camp."
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