- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Horn Breath
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He thought it was so cool to smoke the grass.
He once blew smoke. Now he's blowing brass.
Too many tokes he took of the weed
Have made of his lungs a double reed.
The horn he blows is his own horn breath.
He plays his songs through his horn of death.
The air is filled with the sounds of hot jazz.
Sad, the little time on Earth that he has.
Every mahogany day has taken his breath away.
Red hair and pine have blown his mind
Like a horn. And there is no button to rewind.
There's no button to roll back this life player.
Each breath he takes is a doomsayer.
He blows his horn as if he's an old man,
And like so many people he said, "Lift the ban."
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