Poems · Poemvember 2018 · poetry


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For some inexplicable reason,

My wife dislikes the word Sinsemilla.

Can’t explain it, just is.

Also, worth noting, my deceased father,

Enjoyed the word spliff,

But pronounced it like spleef, and sometimes spleefer,

But, quite naturally, when he said it, it sounded more like, spleefah!

One time we went to see Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefer Band.

He joked that he could smell a spleefah.

Then he had a panic attack because the mob at the gate shifted too quickly for his comfort. Which might have been mitigated if he smoked a Sinsemilla Spleefah while watching the Coral Reefers.

No pretext, just smoking a Sinsemilla Spleefah, while watching Coral Reefers.

When a young man, he had a fibrous tumor in his upper jaw, and they removed half of his upper teeth to get the tumor out.

It was benign, which was fine.

But, his smile was all gum, and unmoored tongue.

There were times when he would hold court and dare my friends to put yellow French’s mustard on a cigar and then lick it off.

He’d do it.

His version of smoking spleefahs.

And, despite all that…my wife, she still doesn’t like the word Sinsemilla.

Not one bit.