What, where is the poetry
it is 4:20, on 4-20-2020,
my wife walks in right after I enter an early evening
re-read to make it seem
poetically planned to hatmonize perfectly
she says, if we can get to El Cajon by 4:20,
I think perfect,
she wants me to do the impossible, again
but then I remember spring ahead that we voted
to stop doing but they did,
I must not have, sprung ahead, for a poetic moment up there,
if we can get to El Cajon by 4:20,
they can **** our dog. Oh...
and a whole long story began, which is why
after all is said and done, 4-20-2020 is a global holiday.
Begin with the end in mind if life is full of riddles must be full of life.