Stoner Fable
purple rain falling down around us as
we formed the clouds in the night sky the air smelled of patchouli
and the tension was butter on the hood of
the car that would take us higher and higher as we passed through the valley
telling stories of loss around a lit match as we
embrace and love as only humans could
passing ruby sunshine by as we
sit on the porch a while and shoot the shit the only way we know how
the beer in our hands tastes of broken bread and
ancient rituals established by being unrecognizable as ourselves
to devote our lives to
the Heart of the Cards and all the mysteries of life
that we place our trust in to keep us going through the night
the blue dawn calls to the great hall
music drowns out the cry a little longer
smiles with subtle sadness wishing the Lotus eaters would safeguard us a while longer
laughter is the anesthesia that carries us through
records climax, we leave them spinning until the next time.