PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I lay on my bed in my room all alone still suffering from the wake and bake some hours ago.  My friend Ernie was known for this with Little Chris usually by his side.  I met Ernie in the way that you usually meet your dealers through friends of friends of someone you smoked out sometime with some good shit. Or something like that.  Those days I used to get care packages shipped from my stepbrother in Amsterdam, sweet smelling packages indeed.  I used to be worried or even paranoid that customs or the police would someday break down our door for importing various types of cannabis into the neighborhood.  Although when it was sent it was in someone who had been deceased for a number of years name Dan would tell me when I had brought it up.  In those days I had the best smoke around which everyone came to now about through various resources including myself bragging in a way by smoking people out here and there.  Ernie was one of those people I would smoke the good stuff with when he came over.  Most people I would smoke a lesser grade or even local swag if I didn't like them.  Ernie was trustworthy which is why I would always smoke him out.  I'm not sure how I knew, it is in the way that he carried himself I suppose.
He often payed me back by wake and bakes early in the mornings testing out his latest import because after all I was an expert of sorts, a weed aficionado you could say.  He was always interested in my opinion of his smoke like the taste of it and such.  Like the time he got Chocolate Thai and brought it over at like 7am.  Even though I was quite a night person and not great to be around in the mornings I was always awake for these moments.  After all free smoke was and is hard to turn down.  

As I lay there as a hair slightly damp eyes slightly red. I was one with the bed.  An ancient Greek statue molded from clay not moving nor changing.  Still smelling the smell of my first exploit on my mattress.  I kept that mattress for years.  The sound of a deep baritone filled the air with heavy dark and brooding music that was me engulfing within my own emotionless thoughts.  An annoying sound started to come from the living room.  Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep.   I could not escape this as my room was an add on, an afterthought made of very thin plywood and an old sheet as my door.  It was made for me because after my Stepmother had moved back into the house we needed extra room as it was a 1 bedroom.  So we made this. An afterthought in the back of the house.  They put it there so I could have my own entrance.  My stepmother had said with my father standing quiet as he always did.  "We don't want to know what the fuck you do back there, thats your area, you have your own door."
At the time it was very perfect for me.  Oh this annoying sound it was the telephone.   I finally rose and emerged from my dreaded state breaking away all the stone from which I was cut into.  Arising from my bed like the living dead from their coffins.  As I went to the phone I noticed the house was still empty.  I guess it was already noon or so, I never really had much perception of time nor do I now.  
"Yeah" I said into the phone.
It was Ernie.  Our mutual friend Eric who I really did not remember that well came back into town from California cause I guess he had moved there some time ago.  Ernie wanted me to go over to his house cause Eric was over there and he had brought a few sheets of Acid back from Cali.  
"Cool, see you later man."  I was never much for words.
So then I smoked a few bowls, after all I had to wake up now.  Took a shower hoping some girls would be over at his house besides his little sister who worshiped me at the time.  She had a thing for Marilyn Manson and besides Paul the uber poser I was the closest thing in the area to him.  
Back then I had to walk everywhere,and Bullhead City was a fucking desert literally.  I know my trench coat did  not help with the heat much but it had many purposes.  Many nights I had slept in that coat from junkies floors to the cold desert floor itself and it did its best to protect me from the elements as well as old syringes strewn around the ground.   Fortunately his place was pretty close which was another reason we would constantly be seen together.  As I approached his place which was known as "The Cottages"  Infamous for druggies and police raids and immigrants.  Small dirt brown apartments one story high in a U shape blended in with the sandy hills in which it sat in the armpit of.  Too bad that camouflage didn't work for the police I thought to myself.  
I walked into the complex.  Various kids including Ernies annoying little brother stared at me as they played outside in the dirt blank faces on all even the old gut sitting across from his doorstep.  Everyone knew me here, I was a hard person not to notice.
I knocked on his door.  Monique his sister answered it and smiled.  
"Hi Zach!"  
"Wheres Ernie?"
"I don't know" she said.
"Fuck!"
"You want to come inside and wait for him?"
"Shit!"  "Well I sure as hell don't want to walk back home."
I walked into his room and sat on his bunk bed and started to turn on his playstation.  At the time I had an obsession with carrying this rubber head key chain.  I had previously gotten in in a "care package" and had to cut it open to get my nug of purple sticky heaven out of it.  Now it was just an empty shell used up dead beaten rape victim.  Still pretty on the outside but empty within.  I still kept it and called it affectionately  "Jobu".  Monique saw it dangling from my belt loop and asked about it.
"This is Jobu!"  
"You don't fuck with Jobu, he has great powers."
"Can I see it?" she asked, trying to grab it at the same time and being curiously close to my crotch.
"Please?" she begged, flirting.
"Fine, if you leave me alone."
"But respect him for he is powerful!"
So I gave her Jobu and she went into the next room to do whatever it was she wanted to do with him.
Eventually Ernie and Eric showed up with Little Chris and a few others including Justin whom lived down the street and his psychotic bitch of a girlfriend who was my ex as well so I knew how crazy she was.  Then Eric takes out this very large sheet of blotter paper and shows us his sheet as we all worship it for quite a while eyes all fixated on the prize.  We all stood in line as transients waiting in line at a shelter.  All wanting that taste of death all looking, searching for something in the night.  One after another we praised this unholy god of foresight.  Finally it was my turn the last in line most appropriately.  We greeted each other as old friends did although I didn't remember him being that close of a friend but what the hell he had the prize right there.  
"Fuck, I only have 3 bucks man" I had said.  I seemed to always overestimate how much money I had even to this day sometimes.  
"That's cool, here" He took my pathetic 3 dollars and handed me something large in my hand.
"Oh shit" I exclaimed as he had given me the whole corner of the sheet it was like 6 hits!
I had planned to take a hit or two of it then divide the rest and sell to my associates  at a later date as I knew it would be sought after.  
© Zach Smith