Under the veil of the tent,
Still scorching in sun light,
I sit.
Amongst smokers,
And the Stoner.
On this occasion, I spark a cigarette.
Once acknowledging my presence,
Offers of, "Free cookie don't worry,
They are home-made, healthy, not
Toxic."
One cookie fast for the Stoner,
Two cookies scarfed quite quickly,
His gibberish is
His unending two cents...
Between the granola,I find
The worst, unspeakably long hair baked,
Intertwined.
Finally, my classmates
Trickle into doors.
Go back, sit quietly,
And ponder...
But unwillingly, shit,
Up comes the cookie!
Choking me, on it's journey,
It's damn bon voyage, treading,
My esophagus.
So how's that for senses?
A real sensory, physically demanding experience.
Free entertainment,
A Show, then I
Vomit.
after sooo long time I saw your sweet new poem on record..means now you are again writing ..well done and this poem is really very hert touching, soul feeling and based on rich idea,,,,, well done