
cops surround
from all sides—
breath held…fuck it…
exhale…
serene myrcene—
quite the scene—
click clock click clock
another drag—
not to brag,
but i never got caught
toking,
not joking,
but once
by my mother.
all these years—
decades—later
the cops walk,
wave hi
as they pass me by
on their way to
make an arrest
while i continue to
get high on the
devil’s lettuce.
POET’S NOTE:
Part of the Wait. What?!? collection.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.

COMING SOON:
The Shaman by Appalachian Virtual Ensemble

© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.


Leave a comment