have you ever seen smoke curl from a girls
mouth; a girl you love to love; a girl that
wears those dresses and skirts? man, twirls and curls.
hey. pass the joint john. boys forcing the cat
to smoke. take a picture, a picture, dude,
and we all laugh. I secretly wonder
whether max will live. I’m not in the mood
to deal with another dead cat. thunder
yells at us from outside and my mind snaps
back to Jane, sitting cross-legg’d; dress askew;
getting the bong passed to her; smiles, claps.
you’re way cooler than Melody, john coos
right into the flower child’s ear. she giggles
and (love to love, man) I keep getting mixed signals.