That Poetry High

That Poetry High

Yesterday I smoked poetry, I
rolled metaphors into a blunt
and got high on the first stanza.

Then I got the munchies
so I ate poetry, and wrote
a verse with its crumbs.

I drank every drop of poetry
until the only thing left in
the bottle was a cheap cliche.

Like a long walk on the beach
under a blood orange sunset and
skinny dipping in open poetry.

We fucked for hours, like two
similies in love and I snuck
out when she fell asleep.

I need my own bed to recover
from this, from the spinning
kaleidoscopes of poetry.

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