Stupid

We were so fucked up,
She says to her friend, laughing.
We were so fucked up, it was…
It was like…
And her friend says, yeah,
We totally were,

And I wonder
What it would be like
To be permanently stupid,
To go through life
At that altitude, just clearing
The lowest rooftops and TV aerials,
Heading for the mountains…

My friends and I used to try it,
Sitting around a day-glo bong, brains
Turned to low, then lower,
So unmoored and adrift,
So hopelessly out of range
Of our calls to the lost
Vessels of each other,

We could only giggle, wondering,
Even as we did so,
Why.

Now and then
The crippled sub of an idea
Would try to surface out there
On the stoned moment’s
Glassy horizon

Where the strawberry-scented candle
Burned like…

Like…