Bong Hits

Posted by Tallon Fassi on March 30th, 2008 filed in Question

I keep my addictions close.

 Huddle them to my skin, press them tightly in.

 A vice unseen is not a vice at all. However,

  Let them wander, people will stare.  

 Smell my hair, check my skin, run hands down my legs.

 this is not for me.

  Diverging I have become a master

 of deception you see.  

 Paint eyes wide and smile and ply

 myself with distraction.

 Keep a mean game face,

Makeup for pain with a fast pace.

  But betwixt us, I’m just waiting for

 some chemistry of substance.

 I’ll take rosy colored bong hits.

  Most days delegate bullshit and breathe. 

 Use logic like a long stick, to fight of the nitwits.

 Okay probably more shotgun spliffs. 

Regardless, I’m priceless and

suffice it to say, I’ve had some

 man eating ways, that I used to play,

to keep boredom at bay.  My Genesis,

 an epic battle royal,

 on purgatories burning fire, amongst the funeral pyres.

  Give way to all that can be lost,

like the natives we “found”.

Don’t give blankets or rain checks and

Do suspect, everyone, who’s not… right

And by right I mean white, and I gave some

Crackers a fright, by speaking up for what is

Logical and methodical and periodically insane,

In my membrane, I retain the pain of the parting

Bodies.  Divergences to distant planes of

Reality, banality breeds multiple verses, and

Love cruises all who pray at the alter of lust,

And I’m speaking through a layer of distrust

 and holding the baggage of past kids. 

Delegation is an act of God, its not odd to

Want time for prognosis, and take my

Prescription in small does. 

If I keep my addictions close,

 why are you slipping from me like smoke?