I Do Drugs But Only in the Morning
When I first met Gregory,
he told me gleefully about
the high intellect of the prison-bound
and kisses shared
with homophobic cops and priestesses
When I met Pollan,
he saw my dark-circled,
shit-speckled eyes
and recognised in me an addict.
“I am,” I said. “OF COURSE, I AM!!!!”
Do you know the pain
imprisoned — a time before Gregory —
in a hospital-esque room
devoid of the psychoactive substance?
Is it good? I don’t even know anymore.
More (in Italian), mould, fruits, seeds, (go) nuts.
Give them
to me
informally.
In tea, it’s ok
but coffee…please…
I needed to get back on it.
Don’t y’all understand?
Pollan scoffed and said, “Me, too.”
Gregory wrote about all the better drugs I could do.
