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Where I Found The Herb

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One of my first distant memories – sometimes deja vu.

Settled in the basement

The smell of skunk, trapped  and wrapped around the hardwood walls of my parent’s old house on Willard St.

A plastic cigarette wrapper rolled up crumbs of local homegrown. I thought, “what is this?”  

I finished my first communion that day.

Older brothers tear into the driveway – Ted Nugent smoking Marlboro Reds – always in a rush – chains connected to their wallets. No seat belts needed, but that chain made sure of the next bag.

Prom night, kinda … 8th  grade the lamplight pointed us to the idea. Backside of the property the marble bowl stayed white with lines of black.

The lighter was red.

The burn in our lungs was as real as the birch trees sitting behind the beginning of this nightfall. Colors became more vivid.

I could hear every breath.

Out of the kids standing in our circle that night-  one just graduated Medical School and the other Overdosed last year.  And here I am telling this story. For the better or the worse.

Skunk for $40 … His hair was a mess, sticking straight up. A classmate of my older bro.  His mom asked if I wanted coffee while smoking a Parliament with neon nails … I didn’t drink coffee I was only a freshman …

The first time I felt it.

I was in the back of a my boy’s red cavalier, I tried acting cool, but the high got the best of me. I had a million mental battles as I stared out the back passenger window. Rain dribbled down slowly, but i feared it would never stop.

Years later I bounced from parties, to road trips, to smaller circles. My parents ponder the situation as my eyes get older and wiser.

Where I Found The Herb



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