don't buy what he's selling

[joel]

When Mother finds my stash and comprehends
it’s much much more than I would smoke alone,
I won’t be panicked – second-guess it – when
I lie to her, assuring her I’ve shared
it with my friends, because I love my ma
and trust I’ve known her worries well enough
to comprehend those shames she fears the most:
she’d rather bear a friendly dope-fiend host
to all the neighborhood than birth the rough
reality that – honest as the law –
her son’s been selling weed in gardens cared
for by the Joneses and the Smiths. But then
again, Ma, won’t it seem at odds a lonely
kid like me’d have had that many friends?

[dadio]

Fine poem, Joel.

[WIREMAN]

no one could steer me right bit mama tried.......she never did find my stash though.....

[justwalt]

I feel... dizzy

[Night Writer]

What a beautiful write.

[Hollweg]

Lonely but not unbefriended. Well-attended but not too close.

[hester_prynne]

Go on...tell her the truth!
Love this!
H