I’ve no use <br />For your snow or your grass, <br />Your horse or your hash <br />Or your stone type trash; <br />I can get high <br />On the breeze and the sky, <br />The storm passing by <br />And the lightning flash. <br /> <br />I’ve no time <br />For your joint or your weed, <br />Your smack, or the creed <br />Of the junk you need; <br />I can get stoned <br />On a beech or a rowan, <br />A sail headed home <br />Or a sunflower seed.. <br /> <br />Life’s too short <br />For your H and your coke, <br />A head full of dope <br />Or the joints you smoke; <br />I get my kicks <br />Where you don’t need a fix, <br />With old-fashioned chicks <br />And the gentlefolk. <br /> <br />17 May 1977<br /><br />David Lewis Paget<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/high-9/
