Modern Day Weed
I haven’t toked in many years
And though it’s just as well,
In Amsterdam three years ago,
My nose picked up that smell.
I breathed in deep and reminisced
About my younger days,
Those weekend nights engulfed in such
A mellow stoned-out haze.
These days in New York City, though,
A scent pervades the air.
It’s weed, I’m told, but to the old stuff
It does not compare.
In fact, its noxious odor
Comes the closest to a skunk.
I wonder if imbibers
Are aware they stink, stank, stunk!
When we partook so long ago,
The ways that one could tell
Were our beatific faces
And our cravings – not our smell!
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment