I care so much
but I care so little.

I care so much about people
but I don't give a **** about anyone.

I don't even know what i feel anymore.

It's all conflicting.

I say I wouldn't care
if you left me behind for good.

And part of me really doesn't care
but that other part of me
would be completely broken if you did leave me.

I listen to songs about
caring and loving you.
and I listen to songs about
not caring about anything
while I go get high
and drunk
and doing whatever I want.

And it proves
that I really don't know
how to feel.
Or what I feel.

Daddy takes me to the greenhouse,
behind our rotted trailer, deep in sovereign backwoods.
Marsh voices, thick like tupelo honey.

The coo of a loon, hiss of a cottonmouth, shiver of a snapping turtle.

The silver of swamp lilies lip the land in wild haze,
a veil of ochre moss tickles my nose like gauzey ginger ale
and soil clings to my ankles like a lonesome hound.

Daddy’s greenhouse is a shed, a haven.
A milieu of magic and fleur-de-cannabis
where pixies pull my curls and gnomes dance
under mushroom parasols.

My hands dip into a hollow of muddy earthworms.
I feel akin to the yellow blood of a butterfly
or pale jade of perplexing geckos.  

Daddy is a shaman.

He trims holy blooms that come from spirits
who sing in the wind like the whippoorwill at dusk.
Snipping sticky bushels, he pads tufts into his pipe,
carved in the shape of a sullen armadillo.

I watch him inhale.

                          His breath
                                               stiff
                            as a braid of mangroves.

                      He exhales a ligneous cough.

                              I don’t mind,
                                                   much.

I smelt it from afar and thought about the
The imaginations
The cool breeze
The sound sleep
The trips
The laughter
The hot ***
Lovely night it would be.

#Highness #Trips #Love

i still smoke out of your bowl
i like to pretend i can taste you on it
even though i've cleaned it twice
all the time i get lit
to make my mind feel nice
cuz thoughts of you echo
throughout my whole body
i feel you in my blood stream
it makes me wanna scream
but your magic bowl fixes all

wow
guess i'm relying on you still
gotta get my fill
you've made me so ill
brain cells killed
i don't want to feel.

Moved to Colorado the other day,
Told the wife I needed to get away.
I guess she didn't think that I'd be gone long,
Since all I packed was underwear and a ****.

The decision to move was easy to make,
In fact, it was a piece of cake.
Ten long years with that naggin' *****,
I definitely knew it was time for a switch.

One day I just realized that I had enough,
So I grabbed a bag, and packed my stuff,
Didn't even bother to say 'Goodbye,'
All I could think about was getting high.

I knew I belonged here, it was in my blood,
To live in a state where I can buy premium bud,
Yeah, getting away was really the point,
You might say I traded the wife for a joint.

Just bought me another bag of ****,
Seems I got everything here I need,
Once I smoke me another blunt,
I'll forget all about that evil gal.

Now the smoking be really fine,
The 7-11 is where I dine,
No one to be a constant pain in my ***,
While I'm sitting here smoking up my grass.

It's nice to be here on my own,
Sparking up yet another bone,
On days I don't want to roll,
I can just pack me a bowl.

These days I got a smile on my face,
A huge grin you just can't erase,
No nagging ***** to drive me insane,
Just hangin' here with Mary Jane.

I'd like to sit around and conversate,
But with Mary Jane, I got a date,
And if you happen to run into my ex-wife,
You can tell her I finally got a life.

01-09-14.