Smoking a Joint at a Funeral

31 Mar

———–

Smoking a Joint at a Funeral

 

This is going to be light.

We were all moderately upset

we expected it

but always a few days later.

Jules and I stayed to the side,

I lit it

listening to the eulogy –  

the black preacher was good:

I thought about booking him for later

the week is long –

everyone could use a good speech to send them off to rust.

Even Martha came

she was always Jimmy’s favorite

she took a hit

paid her respects

didn’t look the mother in the eye.

Greenwood cemetery looks lovely in this insouciant light,

the oaks casting a rash of shadows

across the lawn and gravel

like an early plague of beauty.

Boils, flowers and the like.

No death, not here.

A blurred boundary,

not really, but pick your poison.

I took a hit and passed it back to Jules,

she followed suit

and we stayed quiet for the rest of the service

waiting to pass. 

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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