it’s 4:20 somewhere
new utrecht high school girls smoke pot on corners
watching dull thug boys slap box their brain cells
make squealing, excitable sounds when cop cars
come down the street to encroach upon their freedoms
america the buzz kill, american authority so anemic and lame
well, it’s 4:20 somewhere, i think, this gray morning
watching these kids visine their eyes before breakfast
readying their mug shot, mcdonaldland smiles in car windows
steadying their wombs for that jazzy welfare armageddon rag.
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