The Final Dance (Black Recovering Stoner) 1989

Take a step and dance. Prance amid the misstep; prep another fixture to ensure another reality. Sensibility to the falsity what the distorted visual acuity mandates. Predates such vile ignorant beings as we; the tea poured out so long ago but we still have a king lying in the wing. Sing a sirens’ song from the smoked filled bong as the long drag makes me hack violently and subsequently sag into the blissful heaven I will never be able to witness, to see. The fog causing perpetual smog over my life. And why not? Sunshine never emits on dreaded strife. The overcast that has lasted. The gray skies, along with the smoke, my fate belies. I’ll be glad to leave this earth…dancing on the brink of life and death, ending the laborious two-step. Bow and be long gone. Finally get some well needed rest.