Tuesday, July 16, 2019



Take the smoke in
Hold a loaded pistol to your lungs and pull the trigger when you lift your finger off the carburetor
Natalie Bunch was the first one ever to sell me marijuana; I still want very much to fuck her

The smoke is my savior and I but its humble servant
We serve so many masters we’re not even aware are on the scene
The haves have been eating our lunch long before the neo-liberals started pulling the levels to our ultimate destruction

It’s all in the game when you refuse to educate yourself to what’s so plainly written on the lavatory walls
Two sides went up in smoke long before I was hatched like a disgruntled chicken or purloined disciple
I listen to his moans of ecstasy and am convinced we share the same spirit animal and shaman

The music is here to enlighten, not constipate us
When we refuse to acknowledge what’s falling apart all around us we’re even more prone to our failures and well deserving of annihilation
Our collective carbon footprint has already doomed us to the eleventh circle of Dante’s Hell

Take in the pungent fragrance of sweat sock and weed handed over to me by a Buddha who has lent me comfort since junior high
I’m not messing around, it’s time we dropped our big honking erasers and stopped perpetuating a revisionist history where Mel Gibson is still big at the box office
Our country is losing face because we’ve clearly not learned that paying attention to a bully only makes the bully stronger and fuller of rage and sharp, stabbing regret.

Charles Cicirella

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