The weed that grows wild
That you can’t stomp out
Green leaf purple buds

The weed that gets you talking
Presence weed, fabulizing weed
Washington’s weed
That makes a great shirt

Weed you can’t ignore growing on the path
So aromatic
That weed you had once in Ireland
In Honolulu
Good writing weed, mood indica
The blue-budded pain-easing herb
Its grey threads pulled in from burning embers

Coughing weed

To exfoliate the lungs
To stop the spinning
To stop the vomiting
That grows up everywhere wind-born
Tough spirited
The flower’s flower of power
Sticky on the fingers

Community weed that binds the many
In one smoke, one secret

Weed whose seed we eat for protein
That bees feed on
Skunk weed you smell on your clothes for days
Gusts puffing up from the breast pocket

Weed so pretty you hate to break a bud
Strange prayer weed you hardly dare smoke
That frightens you
Enlightens you

Earth weed in exile
Paraquotted, burned in heaps
Weed that puts a man away for years

Sacred weed with will of air and fire
Popping up everywhere
Like truth
Like the hydra
Wanting to get into people’s heads

Poem weed
Kept in a box by the bed
Dark comedy marijuana,
Good music-listening herbiage
Widening you
For all harmonies

Good sex sativa that makes your flesh
A sponge to bliss, to friction
To fiction
Good tongue weed that heightens
All tastes because
It makes a mind out of your mouth

At-long-last weed after a day’s work
Lost flowertops you still hunt for
Obsessively even years later
A twin to the molecule of bliss

The best
Streaming weed, radiating from all fingers
All eyes
With outlaw grace
These purple rays
These beams of smoke
That toll
The long green gongs
Of goddesses in us


Author’s Bio

Robert Priest is the author of 21 books of poetry and prose and numerous CDs. His poetry platforms on the web have over 100,000 hits. His words have been decried in the legislature, turned into a hit song, posted in the transit system, and widely published in text books and anthologies.