I rolled my mom some joints
from the onion skin of a fat
volume of Shakespeare.

"This is gonna make you smart,"
I said as I licked the dry paper
and admired my handiwork.
"Hell, you may even start quoting
Romeo and Juliet."

She smiled. It was the least
I could do for her.

And, living with an addict,
it was the least I could do for myself.