i remember when in college
smoking
the wacky weed.
inhaling the smoke, the mary
jane
as we sat around
like dopes, listening to Hendrix,
Joplin
and doors.
it just made me hungry, tired,
paranoid and bored.
an imaginary state of being happy.
i can do that on my own now
without a joint,
those that i knew that still
indulge, have no memory.
wasted still at this old age.
stuck in the past,
with the same music, the same
incurable
needs.
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