It’s 1 am,
My friend in the
Front seat rolls
Another blunt
As the light
Post that are
Starting to
get warm
Cast a shadow
Of the old
Jeep wrangler
That we ride in
Going nowhere,
We take a right,
And then a left,
I sit in the back,
With a light mentol
American spirit
Perching upon
My lips,
Im lost in a train
Of thought,
You can almost
See the steam
Oozing from
My head.