When I’m out smoking
I’m all toking, less outspoken
Make sure bushes abutt me
Anywhere I’m like to be
Imma spark the leaf
To the bouncer’s grief
He points to my pinner, source of all chagrin
I’m hoofing it down like I fucked up plans and missed dinner
Quick mediator, or cooking speed of meat we ate, two minutes both sides
Both ate but didn’t dine yet
More sick pussy than a vet
8 lives, minus one for times I should have died
On the narrow window ledge that one night
Three storeys up, inch left and they’re crying.
Alchemisland 
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