Oh the cookie dough taste, it’s not to go to waste, laud Ben&Jerry we should all be merry, and eating Raspberries RAZZ oh the Jazz music resounding through the satellite-radio oh don’t you know, I listen to the tunes with the thoughts of last month’s lame June, when I felt no artistic vim, except with him, my Dr. Candido Ph.D. therapist applauding my work, resounding in my brain, “It deserves an A” for a grade and there will be no Police Raid anytime near, I hope- I have less than an ounce of fear, and I keep my CBD near, absent of THC, I know how to be, sans beer I cheer, sober for years, alcohol gave me a buzz but left me in tears, vanquished by Alcoholics Anonymous, I gave it up quitting drinking ethyl alcohol, I would do it all, back when I drank, sneaking Mom’s Sutter Home, at home, at my home, at my real home in Charlton Mass I would tip my glass not spilling with swilling lager, with anger towards myself, for being a drunk, Kobe Bryant scores with a girl, a thick hunk tossing the ball and doing a dribble, I remember a classmate of my church: Ben Kimball playing B-ball in the schoolyard, playing amateur-basketball was so hard! Shoot the 3 and we’ll see… did he swish it, gargle and rinse, the Fluoride toothpaste they stole one of, oh that makes me pissed, so why do they do this bullshit nonsense here at “Averte”? … to my dis-May the month after 4/20, the MMJ was so funny, tickle my brain, I’m not insane, as I would find recreation with pot, and my parents moved me here, so maybe knot in my shoelaces and leaving no traces, seeing “Tracers” on psychedelic-bud I recall, and I didn’t ever trip and fall — not doing shrooms — I met Allyson Drucker-Hodgkins at Shboom’s downtown uptown all around Buddha is fat and I am not like that with a big old pot-belly jiggling like a bowl full of Welch’s grape-jelly, spread on bread, along with the Jiff — the Jeff — The Jeffrey Marquis — do you like what you see? THIS IS ALL ME! I WANT TO STAY FREE!