THE CHRONIC SONNET
when the day has been rough and oh so long
i sit on my couch with my water bong
and smoke a phat bowl of the sticky kind
to shuck off the funk from the daily grind
like it takes me to some place in my head
like Kubla-Khan, other poems i’ve read
of ecstasy and escape, just don’t choke
on neon green dreams that please like sweet smoke
neoprene scenes milky white window dope
helps you cope or makes a mighty fine rope
inhale – its peace and tranquility please
exhale – negative energy with ease
God gave plants and herbs to use, even weed
so legalize pot and plant you a seed
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