Today’s Poetry

The Whole World Smells Like Pot

The whole world smells like pot.
I thought it’d be cool, but it’s not.
I dreamed of the day when I could get stoned
and the local constable would leave me alone.

They’d have no authority to provoke and hassle me.
They’d have to sit by while I smoked carefree.
Oh, how cool to watch these morality defenders
have to throw up their hands in complete surrender.

But now as I travel from here to there
a distinctive odor hangs in the air.
Clouds of steam waft from open car windows as if
they were offering the whole world a courtesy whiff.

Their vaping devices, small, medium or large
all seem to produce the same voluminous discharge.
I sometimes get high pulling up to a stoplight.
But something about this just doesn’t seem right.

When I used to get high, it was me and some folks
talking and scheming. Laughing at some bad jokes.
I think back to the days when I smoked a lot
and I don’t remember doing anything well high on pot.

When I was stoned I never functioned that well
though pot really brought me out of my shell.
Pot made me lazy and I just didn’t care
If my life would ever end up anywhere.

I’d chatter for hours about nothing at all
until I’d finally hit that party wall.
I think “Is there another me out there?
Those barriers down heading full bore to nowhere?”

And now with all of these new strains of weed
imagine how tough it must be to succeed.
The stuff that I smoked might last for a day.
The new stuff days? Weeks? Who can say.

Now, I’m not saying everyone’s in a pot haze
or walking around in a constant daze.
Some save their smoke for the end of the day
when everything’s done and they can just slip away.

“Responsible use” is the adult definition
but chronic chronic use leads to a condition
of unclear thinking and slower reaction.
Decreased motor skills. Confusion. Distraction.

Maybe I’m just getting older, condescending.
Cranky. Testy. My complaints unending.
It might seem that I have left fun behind.
But really, I am just simply resigned.

The world is changing and not always for good.
What we wished for when we finally reached adulthood
was unbridled freedom from all our constraints.
But sometimes we need a little restraint.

Copyright 2024 by Jose Antonio Ponce