Stoned Age
Off the clock
The world still spins
As I blaze blithely by.
Time is not always wasted,
wasting away with you,
my quasi-legal muse.
Roulette of the senses,
Not always passive,
Surrealist creativity often surpasses
the lazy stigma that sticks to you.
Unfortunately, there is no free lunch,
though a few diluted senses seem sensible severance
for a peek into my subconscious repartee.
Freed, I flee from conventional thought
spinning visceral, ritual spellbinding tales untaught.
Relieving tensions of the day,
pen takes to paper in the most harmonious way,
singing sweet verbiage I wouldn’t usually play.
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