High

The thrill lasts

an hour and a half.

You weave through

your apartment

like a mouse

in a maze.

If the phone rings,

you won’t answer it.

No way.

What if it’s your mom?

The TV is an oracle,

one hundred voices

of wisdom,

opinion and

information,

things you need to know,

from baseball to war,

from hurricanes

to cartoon fistfights.

You cross the street

to the store.

You feel brave.

You have a mission.

You’re way too high

to be in public but

the store is a safe place.

You select Cool Ranch Doritos

and a fruit punch Gatorade.

The guy behind the counter asks,

How’s it going?

You say:

I’m so high.

He smiles and says:

Me too.

Copyright Tim D.

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