Lord John Marbury: Highumphant Return!

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Whose bong this is I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me chonging here
As I watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse thinks I’m over zealous
But really, I just think he’s jealous
Of my opposable thumbs and the rips I take
As I promote my mental wellness.

I pack the tiny bowl up tight
I flick a Bic; a flash of light.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and coughs in the night.

The woods are lovely, with falling flakes.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go once I get baked,
And miles to go once I get baked.

***

Happy 4/20 everyone!

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About This Week's Obsession

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